Located in the heart of the drinking area of Rotherham a night is not a night without a visit to the SNAFU (Military parlance for Situation Normal, All Fucked Up, which pretty much sums the place up). You too can soak up the atmosphere as you mingle with aggressively drunken shaved headed forty/fifty year old men, trying to pull equally aggressively drunk forty/fifty year old women in clothes three times too small for them. All done to the tune of a badly mangled Jimi Hendrix/Kings Of Leon/Foo Fighters cover version by a band of forty/fifty year old plumbers. We soon tire of SNAFU and move onto pastures new:
So popular even the bins are falling over themselves to get in! This place changes it's name each week, by the time you have read this it will have had three name changes. It is the ideal place for a nice knife scar or a skull splitting, the choice is yours depending on who's bird you happen to talk to. Rotherham is a proud town, appearances are important when out and about and most places require some kind of dress code. Now we're not talking here about a DJ or a tux, but just something to keep the countenance up:
Rotherham nights out: Fashion advice and bad grammar
I'm hungry, are you hungry? Rotherham has its lion's share of fine eateries. We are catered for by a variety of outlets serving piping hot food for you to cram into your mouth. What Rotherham lacks in shops it more than makes up for in fast food 'restaurants'. Well, someone has to keep those morbidly obese figures in tip-top condition. With this in mind then let us call over the road for a chicken burger and chips at my favourite place for a heart attack, Chilliz:
Note the delicious (pun intended) spelling of Chilliz!
Fully appeased by deep fried meat substances it is better not ask too much about the origin of, we set off in search of another place to wet our whistles. The usually warm and inviting Club Envy is closed for the night:
The roof, the roof is on fire, we don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn, burn motherfucker, burn!
In our need to slake our thirsts, brought on by the salty meal at Chilliz, we are straying away from the heart of the town now, we are entering the badlands on the way to Masbrough. At this time of night there is only one option left open to us. Having tried and failed miserably to pull a Rotherham girl for somewhere to sleep for the night, our carnal desires lead us to one place and one place only; The Blue Minx:
A Gentleman's Club like no other, the Minx offers a relaxing atmosphere surrounded by exotic beauties performing ritual mating dances to rhythmic voodoo oscillations. The mind boggles at the mysterious maidens who come from such far-away places as Kimberworth, Clifton and even Swallownest. We trip the light fantastic whiling away the hours until we are thrown out by security for breaking the 'no touching' rule. Then it's home to bed, eventually to emerge blinking into the grey dawn and another Rotherham day.
Coming in Part Five: How Rotherham celebrates its heroes and balances the fine line of old and new culture.
