A little London night life

We have seen many interesting things in regard to nightlife while here. There are too many things to be said (& left unsaid), however, I will document the events of Thursday evening:

A group of us went first to Mahiki, the club where Prince Harry reportedly frequents. It was clear that we were not going to get inside without paying a 15 pound cover fee. We then promptly went across Picadilly Circus to TigerTiger, a club that had been recommended.

Unfortunately, the bouncers at TigerTiger wouldn't let certain members of our party in because, after scrutinizing drivers' licenses, only people 21 and up were allowed inside. This shocked our sensibilities since age limits are so much younger here; the bouncer merely told us, "The younger the kids, the more trouble." I waited outside with the babies in our group so that they wouldn't be ditched.

While outside, four of us girls met a guy named Steve who asked us if he saw his friend in a cowboy hat. We answered in the negative. Steve continued to carry on a conversation with us and introduced his friend, Tim. Finally, the cowboy hat friend materialized behind me and introduced himself as Piot. He shook my hand and instead of letting go, he proceeded to play thumb war with me. When he saw that I was a seasoned pro, he started cheating by tickling me so that he would win. Fortunately, I extracted myself from the game and I guess we'll never know who won.
"How do you spell your name?" I asked.
"Why do you want to know? Are you going to look me up on the internet?" replied Piot.
"Are you famous?!" I queried. (Our conversation was becoming purely questions)
Piot told me that he modeled his backside and was pretty famous for it. Whether or not that's true, I still haven't looked it up, but I'm sure you will let me know if you find anything interesting.

Finally, my flatmate emerged from the club, bringing the manager. In seconds we were all brought into TigerTiger. Evidently Alli had told the management that if all of her friends couldn't get in, the whole group would want a refund. She was pretty brilliant.

And the club was amazing. There were several floors, each part was themed in different eras. There was a 70s/80s lounge, a hip hop dance floor and bar, and other genres that I am not good at identifying or naming. Here's a small snapshot of what it looked like:

The interesting thing about European guys is that they have no problem with dancing with their guy friends in a group, or even by themselves. They also dress really well, nice dress shirts and blazers. I think that's pretty awesome.

Oh I almost forgot to mention how the night ended. I had borrowed a pair of heels from my roommate. I am not accustomed to wearing such high shoes. By the end of the evening, I was still dancing, but I could barely walk. The Tube had stopped running by the time we started heading back to our flat, so we had to make the trek home by foot.

Finally, a few yards from Piccadilly Square, I could stand it no longer. To my own dismay, I pulled off those wretched shoes and walked barefoot through the streets of London all the way back home. I'm pretty sure I was in danger of communicable diseases.