Travel to the streets of Peckham to find out the gossip behind the bar from a bartender based in Central London.
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Category: The Scene
Looking for some hot and sexy specialist parties in London; whether you are into strippers, BDSM, whips and chains, being dominated, or queer parties; Powder has created an alluring and exciting guide to some of the hottest nightlife London has to offer. We hope this directs you to the perfect venue for you, whatever your fetish or fantasy may be.
But first! Before Powder brings you in on the best kink clubs in London, we want to ensure you approach these spaces in a respectful and safe way.
We spoke to Sex Educator and Ambassador for The Cage. co Veronica Saad to get a better understanding of BDSM, and so we could make sure you guys are physically and mentally prepared before entering the world of BDSM. The cagé.co is a friendly, kink-positive BDSM community, bringing together like-minded people. The Cage. Co is a safe space offering blogs, chat rooms, and events all over the world.
Now let’s get educated, I asked Veronica Saad some questions; starting with the basics.
What is BDSM?
“The acronym stands for bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism, and masochism.”
“I think it’s important to note that although BDSM can seem dark and mysterious at its heart, it is all about self-exploration and enjoyment, think of it as play for adults, a way for adults to dive into their fantasies, explore their depths and have fun.”
As a beginner; where would I begin?
“If you are not sure your interests, or how to be involved that’s fine, take your time and feel comfortable.”
“I recommend finding a community that can offer solid information and support. I work for the cage and it really is a great community of thousands of people from all over the world, you can chat with them, and ask questions. And remember that although we have loads of experienced members, many of them are going to be new to it all.”
What are BDSM rules?
“Just like rules in other areas of life, BDSM rules are anything that are expected of someone; rules to do something or rules to not do something. BDSM rules can be sexual but can also be simply practical. They can be for excitement or for general well-being. But most importantly they should be personal to your relationship and be agreed upon by all parties, add value to your dynamic and be enforced and regularly revisited.”
Can you give an example of BDSM rules?
“One example of BDSM rule might be prohibiting a submissive from drinking alcohol during the work week or expecting a submissive to kneel at the door when welcoming you home.”
How does the dominant come up with rules for BDSM:
“The best way is to treat it like a negotiating point with your submissive partner, sit down and have a discussion. Things like ‘what rules would you find hot? What rules do they have the time for? What rules will you be able to enforce?’ But I think the most important thing to consider is what rules are adding to the relationship instead of just becoming busy work.”
“Creating rules will take time and likely evolve as you go along.”
You mentioned that BDSM was for consenting adults only, could you share more on consent and how consent is ensured?
“Consent is integral to BDSM. The basic tenants of sex are the same in the world of kink as they are everywhere else. Your consent is required, you can revoke that consent at any time, and you cannot consent to something you are not fully aware of. Unless discussed, consent is never a given. Just because a dominant is a dominant does not mean they are automatically owed any special treatment.” All interactions even the most basic must be consented to ahead of time.”
What about group events?
“Consent is still required but it may work kind of differently. There are places you may go online or off where certain behaviour is expected. You consent to expected behaviour and protocols by attending or going to the event. But this does not override your ability to say no or leave the space. If any activity is not comfortable, consent can be revoked at any moment.”
Veronica explains that “when people start to enter the world of kink there is a lot of focus to the physical aspects of it: spanking, bondage, chastity, cages and more. Because of this, the mental aspects are something people develop later in their kink journey.”
What are some mental kinks in BDSM?
Mental bondage: “think of mental bondage like the exact bondage you know and love but without the need for any gear. Instead, mental bondage focuses on the bottom obeying a command to stay in place.”
Hypnosis: “In most portrayals a hypnosis professional talks a person into a hypnotic state where they may be more suggestible to ideas or better able to recall previous events. This type of activity can be done with an erotic or kink slant as well. Think orgasms, a deeper headspace, or a deeper immersion into roleplay roles.”
Roleplay: “Playing pretend can be an extremely erotic way to explore your scenes. Especially if you have always had kinks for different scenarios, like maybe prisoner/ guard, doctor/patient, props and gear make it easier to get immersed, but the role-play itself is entirely mental.”
Before we get into London Locations, here are some upcoming Cage. co events:
19/4/23 – ‘Cannabis, intimacy and kink’. This a stimulating and informative class on various ways to include your cannabis consumption with your sex and kink life!
20/4/23 – A dungeon dating event – introduction to impact play and restraints @ Centair Studios Hackney, 256 Hackney Road, London E2 7SJ.
22/4.23 – Unruly – a social for fat people in BDSM – unruly is a space for fat people involved or interested in the kink scene to come together and socialise @ The Hackney Den, Dalston N16B 8BX.
Now for the Locations.
THE BOX:
Entering The Box, brace yourself for the unruly and unknown.
You will never experience the same thing twice at The Box, they do different shows on different nights.
I spoke to four friends who had all experienced a night out at the box on different occasions. Firstly, I spoke to Farah Thorndycraft, (22, Coulsdon).
Farah tells Powder that the night she visited the box “this guy pulls out a dildo from his ass, and it was like covered in blood; it was so gross…then we had someone shaving their willy and their balls on stage like their pubes were going over everyone in the front row.” ”Then they took off their dressing gown and they had like massive tits.”. the show certainly didn’t stop there; Farah then witnessed this guy on stage “who had a load of umm like is dwarfs the right word to use, in gimp suits like attacking this guy, oh it was so weird.”
She ends by letting us know that she feels like her experience “was quite tame to what everyone else had experienced there.”
“Box is brazy” Max Morell, (23, Tooting) tells us; “I saw a lady put different colour paint in her … then squirt it out onto shirts and people were buying the t-shirts”
Finally, Seshi (23, Bristol) adds that his experience at The Box “was pretty mad”. “Basically, this trans person comes on stage and starts doing a strip tease around a toilet. Then they reached into the toilet and started rubbing fake shit on their tits. Then they grabbed a plunger and started fucking their ass with it lol. It was kinda fucked”
TORTURE GARDEN:
Before even bothering to attend a Torture Garden event, please leave any bad attitudes at home
Torture Garden is the biggest and best when it comes to fetish parties, hosting events monthly in London, and also in their franchises worldwide. Make sure you are dressed to impress; don’t be scared to show off some flesh and leather is a must. The underground dungeons are filled with dominatrixes; who are not afraid to give you a whipping if that’s what you’re into.
KLUB VERB OTEN:
Provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces.
“KLUB VERBOTEN launched in 2016 and is a provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces. Provider of contemporary sex-positive spaces. Our roots lie in the spatial, sonic, and visual exploration of BDSM + fetish practices,”
There are rules, safeguarding, and dress codes. Make sure to follow.
KILLING KITTENS
‘Liberating women worldwide, Killing Kittens is a shame-free community for dating, sex ed and so much more (Killing Kittens.com)
“A bold and empowering brand that spoke to sexually adventurous women, men and couples who were looking for more. Killing Kittens famous hedonistic events challenge society’s shameful stigmas around sex. – ‘(https://wearekk.com)
BIZARRE EVENTS – Walthamstow, London
‘Fetish.com’ claims bizarre events organise ‘London’s most extreme fetish sex parties, whether you’re a lover of latex, a fan of flogging or a wet and wild water sports enthusiast”; it seems like bizarre events might be the perfect hosts for you.
Stick Club
Embrace your naughty side, meet like-minded people with the same kinks as you, and party the night away in a safe and sexy place.
It’s no secret that not all club nights are welcoming to everyone. so, maverick organisers are hitting back with niche events catering to intersectional communities, reclaiming the scene. Here’s our round up of the best club events for the queer and ethnic community.
LGBTQ+ and Ethnic communities struggle to find places where they feel welcome and can party and drink without the stress of being othered because of who they are and how they present.
It is rare to find spaces that are controlled and populated by members of the community, when u live within a homophobic, transphobic and racist society (no matter how hidden). Members of the community continuously find themselves casted out from mainstream society and are forced to hide themselves for the sake of their own safety.
Even the clubs that solely exist for the queer communities are either infiltrated by opportunists or demonised by white cis-hetro men, or they exist for the white male gay audience. When your existence is debated and not seen as appropriate dinner talk – by a major proportion of society, there is seldom somewhere to party and for total release.
So, to piss them off and provoke them more so than before, here is a list of the top five LGBTQBIPOC-friendly clubs that have not been infiltrated by white cis-hetero males and are dominated by the queer trans lesbian ethnic members of the community. Here is to having what is seen as taboo fun.
HUNGAMA
This East-London based queer alternative night is putting the south Asian queer scene on the map, mixing Bollywood and clubbing culture into a euphoric blend. A vital pillar in South Asian queer representation in the music scene since 2017, the energy is mad and feels like a home away from home, a perfect place for community and a perfect alternative to the overly white atmosphere that is the mainstream queer club scene. An ultimate celebration of queerness, party and creativity, the venue is always changing so make sure to check out their Instagram for future events.
Gal Pals
Celebrating all things femme, trans and non-binary, Gal Pals nights are held in venues in London and Brighton and is strict about playing music by women, non-binary and trans musicians such as Arca, Kim Petras and Slayyter. what you have is a comfortable and fun experience where you can dance like nobody is watching and enjoy euphoric hedonism without the fear of being preyed on. According to fan Jaqueline Da-Silva, “I don’t feel judged how I present. You would always have at least one person flirting with you which is hilarious.”
JUICE LONDON
Juice London is the black LGBTQ+ party you will want to be at. It’s black-owned and features amazing DJs and music. A spectacular place to find yourself on a night in soho, the organisers run events and parties all year round and continuously uplift and support members of the Black LGBTQ+ communities. This is done most creatively by hosting LGBTBIPOC history events where you can party while learning a thing or two from prominent voices in the community.
LICK
Lick, an event formerly held once a month, is now a fully established venue located under the Vauxhall arches. This is not a place for cisgendered men – they are not allowed to enter. This is an exclusive, safe space reserved for any femmes and non-binary persons, who are finally offered the space to whine up on each other without fear of harassment and bigotry.
PXSSY PALACE
PXSSY PALACE is unapologetic. Screaming queer, with its inclusive club-night themes and all-round vibes, it is the place to be… if you can get tickets. It is always sold out since everyone rushes to attend its events, but for good reason. A haven for all women and femmes of colour to feel liberated and express themselves and their desires to musical backdrop of pure hits, a night at PXSSY PALACE promises to serve as a celebration of all things femme, trans, non-binary, queer and ethnic. Controversially but laughably in our favour, tickets are priced at £20 for LGBTQBIPOC persons, and £112.20 for straight cis-gendered men. Iconic.
A profession viewed by many as reliant on male physiology and a machismo temperament, to take on the job as door security as a woman or non-binary person presents a host of challenges. In the city of Bristol, however, one organisation is working to change the professional landscape of security work for the better.
To put on a hi-viz tabard, display a Security Industry Authority (SIA) licence card and to assume the role of a door security officer as a woman or non-binary person in the UK is not easy.
It is to subject oneself to staggering levels of work-place prejudice, coming either from the management of the venue you’ve been assigned to protect for the evening, or the distrustful public in attendance who see you as an obstacle to their tumultuous brand of after-hours fun.
According to data published by the SIA on the UK government website (a body which grants you a license to work in security upon gaining appropriate qualifications), in the period between 2015-2020 a lowly average of 9.9% of those with a license were women. Compared to recent data, this number has risen to 12% as of Spring 2023. Why is there such a gender imbalance in the industry? How does this shape the experiences of women and non-binary people in the role, and experiences of the party-going public?
The conversation starts with Freya (she/her), 22-year-old former SIA personnel. Having worked in pubs, clubs and events throughout the cities of Bristol and Bath and resolute in herprevious experience in event work at some of the biggest festivals in the world, Freya’s approach to the job was different.
“For me, I just wanted to see people have a good time. That was the most important thing, literally just making people feel safe, and heard. I’ve had so many instances in venues where a senseless, masculine approach was just not right for the situation.”
Describing an incident in which she, alongside a younger male colleague who was freshly licensed at a pub in North Bristol had to intervene in a fight, Freya says the idea that one must be masculine and powerful to do the job of a security officer feeds into the minds of men who join the SIA. The preconception, according to Freya, encourages a tendency in her male colleagues to think with their ego and abuse their security status on the frontline. In this incident specifically, a fight broke out between long standing patrons of the pub, with a history of conflict. Her male colleague used physical intervention immediately to separate the two and force who he believed to be the instigator out of the premises, something which Freya says should be an absolute last resort.
“He screamed at the woman; she felt threatened and screamed back, trying to explain her part in the situation, but he wouldn’t have it. What followed was a horrible scuffle, the woman burst into tears and sat down outside to decompress with a cigarette.
“Shortly after, I went and spoke to her myself, impartial in my approach. Turns out the fight started as an accident when she opened the front door to enter the pub as the woman she fought with was stood in front of it. She interpreted this as instigation – but it was an accident.”
Freya admitted their troubled history didn’t help, but ultimately it was no one’s fault, and no more intervention was needed oncethey’d been separated and left to sit on opposite sides of the pub.
“I wouldn’t have found that out if I hadn’t have taken the time to speak to her. When you work with people, everything is about communication – everything. We are trained to use conciliatory body language and in the first instance verbally de-escalate the situation as best we can, only to use physical force if our and other members of the public’s safety is threatened. I tried to explain this to my colleague, and do you know what he said?
“How can you stand here telling me how to do the job? I am a man, you are woman. I’m the only one of the two of us who can be trusted to keep this place safe, all you do is stand there and look pretty.”
In spite of Freya’s experience and more skillful application of training, her male colleague assumed superiority over her when it came to security work, but he was banned from working on the premises as a result of his handling of the incident after it was reported. This is just one in a long list of misogynistic experiences Freya had while working on the doors.
“I’ve been sexually assaulted, picked up and thrown about by drunk arrogant men, ignored and laughed at by punters – men and women, mocked by venue management, often times while working to safeguard a venue completely on my own.”
The synonymity in expectations of what traits someone mustexhibit to do the job properly, both in the crowd and venue management, means female bouncers are battling two frontiers when it came to doing their job. The fact her male counterparts were being perceived as able to offer more in terms of brute force and their confidence in knowing that did make for a more submissive crowd of an evening, which kept management happy.
To those who participate in urban nightlife and those who provide the club space, there is an unspoken mutual arrangement between security and punters that keeps everything running smoothly. Male security officers don’t mess around, and they can and will deal with you if need be, and so the public know to behave around them, hide their drug stashes and engage in dishonest behaviour to preserve their enjoyment of an event in spite of them. The system seems to work, but because of it, Freya left the role after less than two years.
Every shift is different, but you should always want to bring the best out of people. This is what it’s about.
Nicky, 56, SIA licence holder
Nicky (she/her), 56, is a female SIA license holder also working in Bristol and the South-West with decades of experience in the role. Although not citing her gender as having been an issue for her over the years, she agrees that a person-centric rather than compliance-thirsty approach is better for everyone.
“One of the things I think is true about any SIA licensed position is that everyone involved has a different view about what that position should involve: meeting licensing conditions, actually meeting the expectations of the people you’re ‘supposedly’ crowd controllingand how we will keep these people happy and rock’n’rolling, as well as keeping the fights and negativity outside the venue, you know, vibing.
“Something that’s kept me alive is knowing that saying: if you don’t what you stand for, you stand for absolutely anything. When I’m stood in position, I know there’s things I want to see like non-discriminatory practices, I want new people to find a bridge to each other on the dancefloor in a way they wouldn’t anywhere else in life. That’s my personal instinct. And then there’s discerning what the customer expects alongside the local authority requirements, and the identifying the trigger points that build up in the crowd that you’re controlling.”
Like Freya, Nicky describes having to tow a line between meeting the requirements of legislation and venues bosses, and managing the reality of how people behave when they’re having fun. There is a slight contradiction between what she as a person can bring to the role, and what is expected of her. She notes that you’re only as good as the crowd you’re working with, nodding to the December ‘22 crowd crush at Brixton’s O2, resulting in the deaths of 2 people, one of them being SIA personnel.
“Every shift is different, but you should always want to bring the best out of people. This is what it’s about. Connect with them as a human being, don’t make them feel small with petty confiscations, unnecessary confrontation or exercises of power. Always respect the attendees you serve to protect.”
In 2022, a new collective was established by an employee of Lost Horizon. Just on the edge of the City’s centre, Lost Horizon is an independent arts centre in Bristol which showcases art and performance, promotes protest and free speech, and a offers a diverse live music program inside a warehouse with walls plastered in a psychedelic array of pink and purple event posters. This collective is called PHAT (Poland Has A Task).
Run by former events promoter and record label manager, Ola (they/them), 25, the organisation’s acronymous name signals the decline of support for queer rights in Poland, home country of Ola. A political trajectory of which they are strongly opposed, Ola’s activism in support of queer rights has taken many forms, first influencing her work as a promoter, then prompting the release of charity album. Now, this work manifests as a women-and-femme-queer security and welfare agency.
“PHAT started off as a welfare agency in which we would work alongside other teams of licensed security personnel to provide more personable support for attendees of a particular club or event, providing safe spaces, counsel, drug testing equipment and contraception. We have recently expanded our service, and now PHAT takes a hybrid form seeking to provide the security that will reassure and protect the host venues of an event, but preserve our roots in welfare which puts the attendees first.
“Most importantly, PHAT works to address the disproportionate representation of women, non-binary and femme-queer people in the security industry in the UK. Some might argue that our employment regime is exclusionary, but we, alongside other collectives such as London-based Safe Only LTD are simply looking to reorientate the industry. This is by encouraging women and queer people with a passion for events to sign up to an agency where they know they won’t suffer from workplace prejudice.”
On the ground and in select clubs in Bristol, PHAT offers more than sentries planted on pub doorsteps and on the corners of dance floors. Often booked in to work an event that caters to a queer crowd, PHAT staff can identify on a more fundamental level to punters and provide more meaningful care than “a straight, 50-year-old man who’s been out of the party circuit for decades and who doesn’t know anything about modern gender politics,” as Ola puts it.
Instead of looking to impress the management of a particular venue, PHAT’s workforce looks to accommodate those in attendance, with a particular focus on drug-related harm reduction, a more diplomatic approach to conflict management, even going so far as to offer tea and biscuits and quieter spaces to attendees who find themselves overwhelmed by the party space.
Working with The Loop and Bristol Nights, a Bristol-based organisation which seeks to establish “a city-wide policy to reduce the risk of harm from alcohol and other substances,” PHAT is helping to start an honest discussion about the use of drugs across the city’s venues. Aiming to bring Bristol’s licensed operators, event promoters and festival organisers together, along with nightlife workers who face the dancing masses, they want to “dispel myths and assumptions” that prevent people accessing appropriate care in drug emergencies, according to their promotional material.
Consequently, PHAT’s staff are well versed in the symptoms of contra-indication and ill-advisable drug combinations. While – by law – they are required to conduct bag searches upon entry into venues, they still make efforts to reassure the public that if they have smuggled in illegal substances and become ill after taking them, they are the people to go to for non-judgmental help. It is stressed to attedees that they do not serve as an extension of the police.
If people want to learn and are up for the conversation, that’s the only thing that matters. We are better together.
Ola, founder of PHAT Bristol
Ola notes that the impact PHAT has had on the city in just under a year of operating in its current form is huge.
“We are lucky in Bristol in that the city is full of grass-roots venues that are looking to try something new for their customers. PHAT’s approach is spreading; we are getting booked for events which aren’t strictly aimed at queer individuals, which is fantastic. It means our working culture is being commended and normalised. We have found that our approach to security work encourages punters to return to venues again and again, given that they know the people charged with looking after them are respectful, trusting, and a right laugh – we are party goers ourselves!”
While PHAT’s identity is predominantly femme-queer, Ola reports they are more than open to working with security teams in which the workforce is not as diverse.
“One thing which goes against everything we stand for is the annexing of the queer community. By being overly-activist, closed off and unapproachable to teams that don’t share our values, we would risk forming another divide in the industry. We will work with anyone who embraces us; we have a lot we would like to share, and lots we would like to find out about ourselves as a relatively new collective. If people want to learn and are up for the conversation, that’s the only thing that matters. We are better together.”
If the next few years prove to be successful for Ola and the PHAT collective, Bristol could be witness to a radical transformation in the party landscape of the city, in which the scene is super-charged with diversity, inclusivity and trust among venues, patrons and the police.
They boldly represent a rejection of the current systems of the UK security industry, its rigid adherence to the gender binary and its favour towards men. An organisational game-changer, PHAT is fast evoking change to the industry for the better.
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What Are You Smoking Tonight?
If Marlboro Gold was a man, and Lost Mary was found passed out on a park bench, what kind of people would they be? We asked Karis Hinds, Sainsbury’s employee of the decade who has sold thousands of packs and ‘pens in their time working behind the counter.
Smoking is cool again, apparently, so here is a list that matches personality types to their brand of fags.
From classics like B&H to the new funky fresh taste of Lost Marys, every brand attracts a certain kind of clientele – from blue collar scaffolders to east London interns – and everyone has a brand that reflects them. Gather round and read on to see if you can spot yourself.
Benson & Hedges Blue – ‘The simple classic.’
Here’s to the classic smoker. Those who choose B&H do it out of routine and comfortability. They are secure financially but have most likely never done anything out of the norm. Their choice to smoke this basic brand, and their choices in everything else like music and fashion are quite cookie cutter and inoffensive. Oasis‘s Noel and Liam Gallagher are known to have a go on this brand which says something about these smokers – just like your grandad, they’re safely uninteresting.
Marlboro Gold – ‘The fickle minded.’
For those who recently decided to commit to smoking but don’t want to acknowledge the risks. Or, alternatively, for those who are trying to wean themselves off. “I once asked a regular customer why they chose Golds and they answered, ‘They are quite light so it’s not as harmful as the others,’” Karis said. “They’re clearly in denial.”
Often you would see a younger person purchase these cop-outs – just like how they refuse to commit to lung cancer, they also can’t commit to their own sense of style and are usually a Molly-Mae or ASOS-man duplicate. No hate to them, though.
Lambert & Butler – ‘The *London accent* ‘alright, mate?’
The traditional, old school Brit who most likely voted for Brexit because they long for the good-old-days, when London was filled with true ‘Londoners’, none of that ‘ethnic crap’. You see them walk up to the counter dressed in the notorious polo, jeans and scaffolding boots combo; or in one of those Conservatives in a suit and tie, voice cracked from years of smoking and a lifetime of opposing left-wing politics. Nevertheless, you can always trust these guys to suggest a good spot to have a cheap pint.
Silk Cut – ‘The nomad.’
Silk Cuts are known for their elegant, minimalistic and sleek design – only on a rare occasion would someone ask for these. The people that smoke these are usually committed to finding a bit of culture wherever they go, choosing between Brick Lane’s best Vietnamese restaurants or actually back-packing through Vietnam. They’re artistic – not the annoying CSM-kind (IYKYK) – but the laid-back-dabbling-with-Buddhism kind.
Golden Virginia – ‘The standard rollie.’
A young lad who’s clearly got student loans to waste because this brand is NOT cheap. Enjoyment is always on the menu for them. Basically, the type of person who has been attending a festival every summer since the end of GCSEs: outfit-wise, you see them wearing a football top, straight-leg jeans with indoor shoes, calling themselves “lad-core” to the disdain of the rest of us. Chatty, easy going, and they always have good music recommendations. These guys are cool to be friends with – just don’t ever date one.
Vuse Vape – ‘The tech/finance guy’.
This popular brand of e-cigarette is usually tenderly in the palm of the one guy in the smoking area who won’t stop going on about how he lives in Clapham. Their job usually sounds make-believe and is a part of some tech or finance company that you have never heard of. There’s only so many times they can explain what consulting is before you lose your mind. Blokes like this are usually dripping in wearable tech, and own a ¾ Patagonia zip jacket.
Elf Bars – ‘The Gen Z-er.’
Last but not least, the infamous Elf Bar smoker. This brand is very popular for those born after 1998. It’s cheap, looks pretty, and tastes like one of your 5-a-day. They’re sweeping through the younger generation like cocaine in the ’80s. They have a keen eye for tends and fashion, with outward appearance as their number one concern. You usually see them sporting some TikTok trend they judiciously sourced on Depop.
Probably mentally ill and well-informed in politics thanks to their infographic-posting tendencies, they are quite a cool group of people who care about society and saving the planet. More power to them – but seriously, stop smoking those things, you have so much to live for.
Categories
Carcinogenic Conversations
We asked the Reddit community to recount the weirdest and most interesting things they have overheard at the smoking area. As ever with the Internet, the answers do not cease to amaze.
Step outside any club, and you’re hit by a barrage of sounds and smells: the thumping bass of the music, the stench of Marlboro Gold mixed with watermelon vape, and the random snippets of conversation from the people gathered around you.
In this socially-beguiling setting, if you listen closely, you might hear some of the weirdest, most interesting, and Kafka-esque words exchanged between those you find yourself stood out there with.
From cancel-worthy confessions to absurd arguments, it is a goldmine for the nosiest of us that love the gab. Reddit users revealed the craziest things they have overheard: get ready for a glimpse into the weird and wonderful world of the nightclub smoker’s area.
1. "We've had sex twice and he forgot my name the second time. But I swear he is a nice person... and he is really peng..." - From a girl trying so hard to justify her relations with a dick-head to her group of friends. 2. "I get to go to the bar on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays; you can take Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays, and then we'll alternate on Wednesdays." - A guy having a custody battle over the phone. 3. "It started off as pussy but now it's love." - A contemporary retelling of Jane Austen’s Lady Susan. 4. “Yeah, I’m depressed. Everybody is depressed-” *starts pointing like Oprah* “- you’re depressed, and you’re depressed, and you’re depressed, and…” - The best mental health campaign I have heard. 5. "I only rent my apartments to couples having extra-marital affairs because they never use the kitchen. And it's less overall wear and tear. There’s usually not anything above a size four of women's clothes in the wardrobe when I check." - Maybe Mao was right... 6. (In the thickest Bristolian accent they have ever heard): "No, she got fingered by Gomper 'coz she wanted a fag." 7. “Oi. Tits first. I ain't a slag!” - Apparently overheard while walking home, loudly declared by a pair of smokers down an alleyway. 8. "I don't know if this is the cocaine talking but aren't penguins just magical!" - Followed by 20 minutes of showing people pictures of penguins on their phone.
There it is, a compiled selection of the strangest and most hilarious things that Reddit users have overheard at a club smoking area.
Whether it is the vodka, the sounds, or the atmosphere, something about that space seems to bring out the innermost thoughts and confessions of club goers. It’s a reminder that even in the chaos, there’s always a chance for a moment of absurdity or to overhear the true business of the people around you.
So, the next time you are smoking outside the club, take a moment to eavesdrop – who knows what gems of conversation you might discover?
Have a burning overheard confession you'd like to share? Head on over to our Instagram (@pwdrzine) to spill. Anon pls.
In the summer of 2022, I gave “Burning Man” a whole new meaning. Although, instead of soaking up the sun at the famed American festival, I found myself selling not-so-Smart Whip to a crowd of gas-heads in a Welsh forest – and nearly needing a skin graft for it. My name’s Tia, fabulous POWDER writer and your friendly neighbourhood burn dealer.
It was June 2022.
The academic year had just finished, the sweet smell of summer was in the air, and around twenty of my closest friends and I had escaped to South Wales to sesh the weekend away at Gottwood Festival, an electronic music festival advertised as a “mystical little party…hidden in the depths of the Welsh forest.”
Two days after we arrived, the energy was still ecstatic, the good vibes completely and utterly contagious, setting the tone for a summer 2022 that was going to be one for the books.
On our second to last night, a Saturday, we ran into a cheery Northerner selling Smart Whips – canisters full of nitrous oxide that are usually used to fill a balloon, which is then inhaled. We thought: ‘What are the chances of getting hold of laughing gas in the middle of the Welsh woods?’ so we, of course, bought as many as we could afford. At £80 a tank, the prices were double the standard in London – we’d been monopolised.
But my intoxicated self saw an opportunity to make my money back and, if I was lucky, net a profit. I knew if I was dumb enough to spend £160 on two canisters, other festival goers would be too, so I decided to sell three balloons for £20.
I laughed as the crowds gathered around, practically throwing cash in my face, desperate to get hold of a balloon.
That afternoon, security circled the grassy auditoriums in front of the various stages, meaning I had to be discreet. I had the Smart Whip wedged down the left side of my leggings, with my North Face waterproof hiding it; a combination of ecstasy, alcohol and nitrous numbing my body, I was completely oblivious to the extreme freeze that was burning my hip. It was only three hours later – when the gas was all out – that I felt a huge lump and blazing pain on my left side.
I’m a tough-tittied party girl, so I wasn’t going to let what I thought was a small burn ruin my night. I dance the night and the pain away…
The next morning, I woke up in my tent, sweaty and in complete agony, to find my hip was awfully blistered and raw. In a sudden panic, I woke my best friend, passed out next to me, and she moved like lightning when she saw the severity of my hip. We ran straight to the paramedics’ tent.
A combination of ecstasy, alcohol and nitrous numbing my body, I was completely oblivious to the extreme freeze that was burning my hip.
Tia Brown
The paramedic was wary of popping the blisters in case of scarring, so he bandaged the burn instead. I was presented with two options: travel home to London alone a day early, or ride out the last night at the most magical festival I’d ever been to. Obviously, I chose the latter.
However, in the 24 hours that followed, my hip continued to flare and there was liquid oozing through the bandage. The smell was awful, and I couldn’t even shower or clean it due to the risk of infection. My weekend in Wales was ready to end and all I could think about was getting home to the advice of my medical-practitioner mum. My friend made sure I was driven home because there was no way I was getting on a packed train to London feeling – and smelling – the way I did.
Within seconds of my mum seeing the burn, we were off to A&E.
It’s always a drag hanging out in waiting rooms; but that day felt extra draining. There’s no doubt it was the combination of a massive comedown and the anxiety that I might’ve permanently scarred my body selling not-so-fucking-Smart Whips. It was at that moment I vowed to never touch them again.
I was finally seen by an A&E nurse after hours of waiting and she took pictures of the burn to send to a specialist before treating it. It felt like my leg had been dipped in the River Styx.
The whole circumference of the burn had to be bladed off with a scalpel, leaving raw flesh where the burn used to be. This was to avoid any infection. Ironically, gas-and-air was provided, and many hours, tears and broken sleeps later, my burn was smothered in medicated Manuka honey and I was sent home.
The following month was crucial to my healing. I didn’t smoke, I didn’t leave the house except when I was going to the hospital, I ordered every vitamin under the sun and I hibernated. Not exactly how I anticipated spending my first month of the summer.
The heatwave in London that year didn’t make it any easier either; I couldn’t swim nor sunbathe. I spent the time in my bedroom with my Argos fan on full blast binge-watching Desperate Housewives for the hundredth time.
I’ve never wished I could turn back time more. I hated the thought of laughing gas and I was cross with myself even more for being so silly to sell it. I’ve lived to see another day though: the burn healed magically in the weeks that came with hardly even a scar to show for it. It seems justice, for me, was kind.
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A young man moves from middle England to London to exact his queer identity, as before unexplored and left unexpressed. From his job behind the bar of an underground gay sex club in Soho, he observes the unrelenting promiscuity of the circuit, and a dissolution of the conventions of propriety upheld by the world above. As told to Tom Sale by an honest, anonymous source.
“I come from a town a two-hour drive to the north-east of the London metropolis. The two places are wildly different.
My hometown, in my view as a 24-year-old gay man with a wealth of intimate experience with those of the same persuasion, is incredibly straight. It’s the same no matter where you go; bland sports bars are ubiquitous and uninventive clubs are complacent with their playlists of soulless chart-toppers. Men in tight jeans with sleeve tattoos and skin-fade haircuts brandish white-wine spritzers at the nearest women with filler in their lips and a nice top. I could go tonight and it’d be the exact same experience I had there when I started clubbing six or seven years ago. The queer community was non-existent in my homestead in middle England, so I escaped to the capital when I was 22. I wanted to be somewhere where my differences did not make me a conspicuous target for ridicule, which was often the case for those in the queer community back home.
It always felt weird to me that a place so close to my home could be so different. London is not like the rest of the country. All it took for me was a two-hour train ride to land in its vibrant cultural epicentre, its party landscape of illegal raves in dangerous disused buildings, artists questioning their understanding of the world and expressing their disdain for it through their work, and a population made of those from every country and culture in the world.
I had two years of settling in and finding myself before getting the job at that bar in Soho. By then, I had become confident and established in my queerness, strong in stomach and well-acquainted with a thirst for adventure. Every day, I clock in and brace myself, donned in a uniform of skimpy, strappy black leather, with my flesh dripping in enough chunky piercings to pick up a radio signal. This job is not for everyone.
The bar, and the club space it’s nestled in, is drenched in sleazy hot-pink-coloured light. Low ceilings and backlit upholstery tucks everyone in. There is not much room to spread out, so the patrons turn to each other and exchange prolonged, wet kisses and invasive grapplings of their partners’ bodies, hours before any mention of a name. Publicly displayed penetrative intercourse always follows. The bar I am grateful for as a barrier from the mess of writhing intimacies I see before me is smaller than you would think, and not really an essential part of the club. I see myself less as a bartender and more as a mediator, a keeper of peace and caretaker of the space to safeguard the visitors against themselves should their energetic, sticky fumbles get out of hand (as they often do).
There is nothing more honest than nicknaming yourself ‘toilet’.
As you can imagine, the smell is a potent cocktail mix of old leather, alcohol, sperm and other bodily fluids. The club is always hot, the jungle-drum soundtrack of repetitive beats against a camp and flamboyant melody intoxicating. These men have no inhibitions; they are not at home, yet they are allowed to engage in the most private of acts in front of a crowd of enthusiastic, voyeuristic perverts. They are enraptured, liberated, penetrated and abused by strangers, all by their own request. The only strict rule governing the patrons of the club is that consent comes before anything they do; the rest of the decision-making is up to them.
For me, this rich tapestry reveals a human addiction to hedonism and its pursuit. Queer sex, although thankfully legal for decades, still exists and is only practised in its fullest extent underground, away from the eyes of the world. On the face of it (and judging by what I see in this club as I cower behind the bar), that seems like a good thing. Anal fisting and scat play are shocking and graphic, but there’s a whole culture hidden from the world above – a world that keeps this one on the fringe, incompatible in its deviance and marginalised in philosophy. While queer visibility is on the rise, the radicalism of what it means to be queer becomes white-washed. Gay marriage and adoption, in my opinion, don’t represent equality but assimilation. The nuclear family structure as a neat unit of social organisation appropriated by many gay couples as rite does not reflect the senseless polygamy, sexual anonymity and flagrant disregard for conventions of the male/female binary I see in front of me. I want to see more space and the comfort of normality afforded to these individuals, rather than watching them adapt to tradition in a bid for acceptance.
This perspective is most impressive for someone who, while working, came face to face with a man getting fucked doggy-style while mopping up someone else’s sperm. Yet I’ve learned to tell the difference between what is real about human desire and what is taught to us: there is nothing more honest than nicknaming yourself ‘toilet’, walking naked around a public place and letting someone shit on you in front of an audience, that’s for sure.”
