Wednesday, 12 December 2012
94 St Mary Street, Cardiff [map]
Plenty going on at number 94. Although surely the correct order of events should be: "Bar. Boogie. Beds." Doing the 'beds' bit first makes no sense at all.
Sticking with tradition then, we begin proceedings by heading to said bar.
Where we're joined by a man in a kilt, who appears resolutely nonplussed by the luridly coloured, miniature seating arrangement to his right. Or, indeed, the carnival of bunting and fairy lights above.
To be honest, we imagined that the 'beds' mentioned on the sign was an allusion to there being - let's say, for the sake of argument - some sort of hostel upstairs, perhaps comprising a few dorms predominantly aimed at backpackers.
But no, how wrong we are. Turns out it refers to the fact that there's a trio of beds directly opposite the bar. Which is just fucking weird.
Actually, this one's as much a chaise longue as it is a bed. Although such a description is probably a bit wordy to fit above the entrance.
Also, "Three beds (one of which is quite like a chaise longue). Bar. Boogie," just doesn't have the same ring to it.
This bloke's as baffled by the whole bed situation as we are.
More kilted fellows, determinedly supping lager and checking their mobiles.
Presumably in a bid to distract themselves from the fact that they're sitting under a tasselled yellow parasol that's adjacent to an antique sideboard draped in Cath Kidston fabric.
The cause of - and solution to - all life's ills. (Well, most of them.)
We've read the entire thing and can confirm that nothing of any merit has ever been written on this blackboard.
Christ, imagine passing out on one of those beds and then waking up to this the next morning with a hangover.