If your favourite Newcastle clubs were starter packs, this is what they’d be
Your fave nights out, starter pack style
Whether we want to deny it or not, starter pack culture is at its peak and it is about time some were created for the best (or perhaps worst) clubs around The Toon.
Swinging at Swingers or getting down at Soho, we can all agree we recognise some of these characters but you no longer have to work it out, these starter packs have you covered.
Everyone's Thursday favourite that is Swingers. The rah's are literally in full swing and arrive in the masses, you can spot those huge puffas and alice bands a mile off.
That is, if you haven't decided to ditch the whole idea and head to SOHO instead, where you won't catch hypothermia waiting for hours in the queue. No wonder there is always a swarm of coloured fleeces indoors, maybe they are actually the sensible ones and we are missing a trick.
House Of Smith
The ciroq is lined up on the VIP tables and prosecco is being bought by the bottle. Students are maxing out their overdraft, but wearing a designer shirt to mask it. You are embarassing yourself because you are the only one who is smashed and your feet in six inch stiletto's cannot take anymore. You wonder why you paid £10 entry and usually you will leave before the club actually shuts, Waikiki next Tuesday seems like a better shout.
It's Tuesday, your friends are all absolutely buzzing and ordering water by the bottle. You wouldn't dare drink the petrol that is cosmic's spirits so you spend £4.50 on a red stripe every time, and yes, you will buy about four. Your plaits are done tight so you can join the mosh pit that has formed right at the front.
It gets to four am but you are not finished and will undoubtedly make friends with anyone you possibly can do, just to come to their 'afters' where before someone even catches your name, you will be greeted with 'what are you on?'
You are on your third round of blue trebs and by this point you are most likely completely alone as you have lost all your friends battling through the crowd. Your friends have been taken down, they are either; in a heap at the bottom of the lethal staircase, have quite possibly been thrown out by one of the bouncers or are slut dropping awfully to Jason Derulo or Candyshop.
You say you will definitely not be back for a while, but lets not lie. You were here last night and you'll be back tomorrow night. Where else can you sing your heart out to Abba, then next minute be pouring it out with Drake?
It is Wednesday and no one wants to be here. The guys have their shirts off and are screaming country roads, most likely in The White Room. Your neon facepaint has slowly sunk off your face and has taken all your makeup with it. This isn't helped by the fact that in Tiger Tiger you have kissed anyone and everyone, top on or top off, and you have been caught by the kisscam. You can smell the testosterone and the rugby lads are loving every second of it, you however swore you would never return after Freshers. But this time, never again.