We just discovered this place recently, having reason to visit Gurgaon, something we don’t normally do. And our friend whisked us away–once on the wrong floor, another time taking a wrong turn, till we thought he was just making the place up. Especially since he didn’t tell us where he was going. What is it with men and asking for directions?
But then we entered and rock music pounded through the door and we forgave him. Especially when we saw the huge Harley Davidsons parked everywhere, one disembowelled one even jutting out of the wall like a trophy. And the bar stools are motorcycle seats! And we were charmed.
Except once when the music got too poundy and the glass light things near us started to shake and horrible feedback happened. But we sent a sweet napkin note to the DJ saying, please turn down the music and please play some Dave Mathews Band as well and we smiled at him when he looked at us and he played DMB for the next half an hour. We loved that DJ.
Okay so the loo says Dudes and Chics, when we think they meant “Chicks”, but k’s can always be inserted later.

*The Drunken Diva thinks Staying Alive is very nice and friendly even if it IS in Gurgaon*

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We like Haze. We like Haze because they play the blues. Everytime we go, we are tempted to sing that bit from Miss American Pie: “I met a girl who sang the blues, and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and walked away… la la la.” But the one objection we have–which is not an objection against Haze, per se, just a general objection about the Indian music scene–is that they keep getting the same bands over and over again. So you’ll have HFT, Soulmate, Lou Majaw and The Saturday Night Blues Band at least once a month. Miss an act? Never mind, you’ll catch it next time.
Also, another reason we try and not go to Haze that often is because it’s rather small. And unventilated. And we’re smokers, yes, but after a long evening there, our eyes are bloodshot and we’re gasping for clean air. We feel bad for the non-smokers sometimes. But the booze is cheap and the music is good (even if they do shut shop at midnight) so, yes, Haze is one of the better places in this city.

*The Drunken Diva wishes Haze would crack open a window sometimes*

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Though this isn’t exactly a pub review, we figure it works in the general theme of drunkeness and things we do with our evenings. This was Penguin’s big launch for the year and the normally rather predictable launch pattern (reading in auditorium, going outside for drinks later) was all po-ASH this time. For one thing, it was outside, in the courtyard, and there were these huge wooden frames with diyas strung up on wires and there were professional qawwali singers, going with the whole Mughal theme of his new book The Last Emperor about Bahadur Shah Zafar and the Revolt of 1857.
The food was good too, surprisingly, because the BC normally doesn’t rate very high on the cuisine front, but last night it was all reshmi kebab and things. Willy D read a few excerpts from his book, and we scoffed red wine from a distance, feeling very intellectual and arty. The usual literary suspects were all there, mingling happily. We spotted some pretty famous bloggers too, like the Duck of Destiny, Hurree Babu, and Annie. Not to mention the fabulous (and very hot) eM. Sadly, no one was drunk ENOUGH to commit any major boo-boos, even though we kept our eyes and ears peeled as we mingled rapidly. Any more major launches this year? We think not, though Darymple’s book sold rather well for a launch–100 copies. Hmmmm. Maybe we should write a book. 

*The Drunken Diva does enjoy booklaunches, especially the wine*

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* Because we went there last night.

* Because we went there last night with congenial boy, which usually adds to the ambience.

* Because they play terrible 80s pop that takes us back to our childhood.

* Because their chicken wings are to DIE for.

* Because they have margarita Thursdays, where the prices are slashed from Rs 250 to Rs 199.

* Because we love margaritas.

* Because they serve BEEF.

Although, it must be said, they are rather pricey. Cut your cash flow dude. It’s all good. 

*The Drunken Diva thinks Bennigan’s is a good place to go to for dinner, but not exactly to get shit faced* 

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Now, we know what you’re thinking, darlings. You’re thinking we only go to fancy-schmancy places. When, really, we enjoy our little hole in the walls as much as the next person. Especially at the end of the month, when we’re very broke. A wise person told us recently, that work was the curse of the drinking classes and we’re inclined to nod vigourously. Why work, anyhow, when we could be sleeping off our hangovers till 4 pm, before finally waking up, making a cup of coffee and plans for the evening? But sadly, our lifestyle demands some sort of money. When we have no money, we like to crawl into the womb-like comfort of some cheap bar. And nothing beats Flames. The alcohol is very, very cheap, the music is non-obtrusive and best of all, no one bothers us, even if it’s just us. Which is saying quite a bit for a bar in this city. We’ve gotten smashed out of our minds there for about Rs 300, leaving us with just about enough money to buy a final packet of cigarettes and totter home.

*The Drunken Diva thinks Flames rocks for its sheer cheapiosity*

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Though we only went to this place very recently, we quite enjoyed Laidbackwaters. Owned by the same dudes who do the lovely (but prohibitively expensive) Shalom, Laidbackwaters is supposed to be their seafood/nightlounge type place. Only we object mightily to the kitschy ceiling. Really, fake wood panelling and low brass chandeliers? So not loungey. What we LIKED very much about this place were the bathrooms. Instead of the usual man-standing-with-legs-apart and woman-in-dress, or even the very tiresome Queen of Hearts and King of Clubs, they had these little TV screens outside the loos, with a video montage of men or women as the case may be. And ordinary looking men and women also, not models, looking like they had been shot very drunk, which made them, of course, very easy to identify with. Also, the bartender was lovely to us, and concoted this divine drink called the Caprioska, made of vodka, brown sugar, mint and lemon and filled to the brim with crushed ice. We drank about five of those, before our evening finally wound up.

*The Drunken Diva gives Laidbackwaters a high five, but recommends a decor overdo*

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We like Buzz very much. It’s one of those places where both the manager and the bartenders know our name. We’ve sat there for hours and hours taking advantage of their excellent happy hours. Sometimes we even go on a Saturday night, where, if you smile sweetly enough at the bartender, he’ll make you an LIIT for free. (Well, it’s been known to happen once).

Another thing we like about Buzz, is this blue drink they make. We don’t know the name, something like Balls Falling Off or somesuch, but it has almost every single kind of alcohol in it. Get through one of those, and you’re sorted for the rest of the night. Of course, the one time we drank it, we narrowly escaped choking on our own vomit, and spent most of the night with our head way into the recesses of the pot. But still. We were drinking on an empty stomach, we say defensively.

*The Drunken Diva is most likely to be spotted at Buzz*

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Aqua is well, meh. The essential idea is good, the whole poolside bar thing, but yeah, it doesn’t work for us. The drinks are bloody expensive, the bar is disorganised–with this coupon system that doesn’t really go with the whole “classy” thing they’re trying to create. And, the loos are basically the pool changing rooms, not really equipped for several, very drunk people.

Aw. Maybe we’re just against Aqua because of the unhappy memory we have of it. Fight with friend and all, over something idiotic. Something like that can screw up an entire place for you. But we remember the music being sooooooo mellow, we nearly fell asleep. But they DO have nice tent like seating things.

*The Drunken Diva turns up her nose at Aqua*

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Aura’s only failing is the crowd that they get. It’s full of either really, really young people, who still have braces, for god’s sake, and wear those huge baggy jeans that went out of style when we were teenagers, which was, even though we might not admit it, quite long ago. And then there’s some really old people, in suits and ties. And us.

Our friends love Aura, for some reason, we’re not very sure why. The music is very nice, sure, all house and chilled out. The drinks, ah now, THEY are exceptional, even though they might be a little overpriced. But three of their LIITs and you’re good to go for the rest of the weekend. Go to the ATM before, and also try the Red Devil, made of chilli vodka, and is absolutely incredible, though not quite as potent.

Oh, and ps: Another plus point about Aura is that once upon a time, they had three very hot foreign bartenders–two from France and one from England. We met them once, and flirted madly. They’ve gone now (damn) but they’ve left behind some very nice cocktails, all vodka based, seeing as it IS a vodka bar after all.

*The Drunken Diva approves of Aura, but wishes they would set an age limit*

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Thursday evening and plans are set. Well, almost.

People who say Delhi has no night life obviously haven’t been out with the right people.

And, bebe, the right person is us.
 
We may have no liver, or even any memories of a liver, but we do know our stuff. Everything here has been tried and tested, sometimes, more than once. And of course, several places have some *ahem* very personal memories. And others have no memories at all, just because we’ve woken up the next morning going, “What on earth did we DO last night?”

One more thing–we’re sort of royal. That’s why the we. Also we suspect we might have multiple personalities. Or maybe that’s just the booze talking.

*The Drunken Diva raises a toast*

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