DECOR ** (modern but gloomy) DRINK *** (surprisingly well stocked with beers and even ale) PRICE *** (good value) ATMOSPHERE ** (missing the fun factor) STAFF ***** (friendly and welcoming)
LONDON is known for its thriving gay scene, from the camp and colourful pubs lining Soho’s Old Compton Street to the in-yer-face 24/7 discos of down and dirty Vauxhall.
Lewisham, however, is known less as a gay village and more as a hotbed of fatal stabbings and chavs wearing gold hoop earrings and clown pendants.
But with its rainbow flag billowing in the wind above the entrance, Two8Six is queer and proud to be here.
It’s a shame, therefore, that more people don’t seem to know about this half-bar, half-club, which by 1am on a Friday night was as empty as its promises of a carefree boogie and a good night out.
After navigating the mean streets of the town centre, taking care to avoid the binge-drinking yoofs outside Wetherspoons and giving the bleary-eyed junkie a wide berth, I waltzed into the boozer like a queen late for her coronation, thankful to be alive and with all my limbs still intact.
I immediately made a beeline for the brightly-lit bar and thirsty for any drink which would take the edge off, I ordered a pint of Hobgoblin ale (£3).
If drinking a glass of fermented cat urine is your idea of a thirst quenching tipple, then the Wychwood Brewery’s signature beer is an ideal choice.
Otherwise, I would recommend sticking to the admittedly unadventurous, but tried and trusted, Staropramen (£3.65 a pint).
With a license to stay open until 6am, the emphasis is obviously not on the bar’s eclectic choice of beers, but on keeping punters shaking their booty on the dance floor and partying until dawn.
However, with the DJ spinning a confused mix of R&B and chart remixes, there was no temptation to bump and grind with one of the shifty looking disco bunnies gyrating their crotches to the latest hip-hop hit.
No-one could deny the crowd of mostly under-25s were enjoying themselves, but it felt very much a case of those who could went to Soho and those who couldn’t stayed in Lewisham.
The sunburnt fag-hags, showing more cleavage than was absolutely necessary considering their chances, were an added eyesore and made a butcher’s window look lacking in flesh.
Fortunately, the infectiously friendly staff were oblivious to the lack of ambience and went out of their way to make party-goers feel welcome and in the mood.
Local gay bars are often a cheap, fun and down to earth alternative to overly pretentious, pricey and soulless venues in central London.
However, despite an array of drinks offers and a Glee karaoke night on a Sunday, Two8Six has failed to include one of the key ingredients to making a gay boozer great — a bum-shakingly cheesy soundtrack to the night.
Afterall, gays just want to have fun.
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