We ended up in Wagamama Dean Street last night, after I clocked off early and went to meet a good friend for some well-deserved (don’t mock) pints in Soho.
We started in Brewdog on Poland Street, but when it became impossible to actually hear each other, we moved further into Soho and ended up in the newly-refurbished Rupert Street. I’m not a fan of gold and black decor, but it’s not my bar and not my redecoration budget.
With gold on the fixtures and fittings and gold studs set into black leatherette at the bar, it made me wonder if this is what it would look like if Donald Trump ever opened a gay bar.
That said, using the toilets proved to be an interesting experience. Each toilet cubicle now has a mirrored wall set behind the toilet, meaning that while standing there, I was faced by a slightly flustered man doing everything I was doing – but in reverse. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t a view to enjoy.
I ended up trying not to make eye-contact with my embarrassed reflection and focused on finishing up as quickly as I could. But those pints… And I quickly had a flashback to a story I’d read earlier in the week about secret spy-cams installed in Korean Air BnB venues, making my bathroom visit even more stressful.
It’s funny. Our en suite bathroom at home has one wall completely mirrored, so I end up looking at this naked, tubby reflection every single day. But in another context – where the mirror is unexpected and I have a massively inflated bladder – it’s quite different and I couldn’t bear to look straight ahead.
Contextual bathroom neurosis. There’s a conference paper title if ever I heard one.
Back to the evening upstairs. Pints were enjoyed, gossip was exchanged and laughs were had. @TheFrankFlyer joined us after his shopping trip down Regent Street was complete and he quickly took advantage of the two-for-£12 deal on the cocktails. Tucking into his two mojitos, my joke about ‘double-fisting‘ fell on deaf ears.
Drinks finished, goodbyes said, Frank and I wandered through London’s glittering (and vomit-strewn) Soho streets, looking for sustenance. And that’s when we arrived upon Wagamama‘s Dean Street restaurant, where they have an ‘experimental menu’. Basically a choice of new dishes they’re considering rolling out across the chain.
Never one to miss out on something new, I experimented as well.
I went for the ‘extra hot’ Chicken Katsu Curry. Normally a very mild, Japanese-style curry sauce, this one (pictured above) was hotter. A lot hotter. Additional-water-had-to-be-ordered-hotter. Yet I enjoyed every mouthful and finished the lot. It was washed down by one of the excellent ‘Kansho’ beers they sell – laced with lime and ginger. It’s the perfect accompaniment to a curry.
Al those pints, all that walking (I walked over 20,000 steps yesterday, including walking from home in Canary Wharf to my office at Bank, and then my office into Soho) and all that food meant that plans to watch the latest Star Trek: Enterprise together were abandoned when we got home.
All I wanted was the warm embrace of my bed.
It’s now just after 7am the following morning and I’m considering going out for a run. A mystery foot injury has prevented me from running for a while now but, right now, the foot feels fine. So maybe it’s time to work off just a fraction of yesterday’s over-indulgences…