My bittersweet love for Cafe Parfait
Once upon a time on a Thursday night, a young fresher with very little money to his name realised that he could not afford his usual routine of ordering shots for his […]
Once upon a time on a Thursday night, a young fresher with very little money to his name realised that he could not afford his usual routine of ordering shots for his mates in an attempt to look like a baller, but he still had the compulsion to venture out. When he chanced upon a flyer to a night called Chocolate Factory, decided to give it a try.
I can still remember, to this day, the first time I went to Parfait. It was like a less disgusting version of Jesters. Everyone was acting outrageously, everyone was incredibly happy, the music was atrocious, and I absolutely loved it.
We’ve all heard disgraceful stories from those fateful Thursday nights. People losing their limbs after falling down that staircase that must go against every health and safety law ever created, or waking up with a headache and pockets full of chocolate, convincing oneself while running for a lecture that two Freddos and a Chomp are a nutritious and sustaining breakfast.
Or the time a guy dropped his phone down one of the toilets and it survived because of how blocked it was. Thank Christ there’s been a refurb. Or the time a girl fell asleep in VIP and then threw up all over herself on the way home. That’s Parfait.
You’re vile, you’re unethical, you may even be slightly offensive. But I love you, with your tacky charm, your seedy location and your picking of potentially the most mundane days of the week for your popular nights.
Where else can you hear an EDM remix of Coldplay’s Fix You? Who else would have the audacity to play a shit deep house remix of Kings of Leon. How can you not be totally and utterly in love with it?
I love your scary bouncers and your attractive promoters, I love your filthy dance floor and your tiny smoking area. I love that your drinks were 99p, I love that you’ve dropped them to 75p. I love that I’m sure you can’t make a profit off it, and I love that you’re not Jesters.
I love you Parfait, even if the other kids at school bully you, I really, really do. Now climb on into bed with me and spoon me like soft ice cream.
Parfait lover too? Share the love in the comments!