An average night at Cien. Arrive at 23:30 to find a massive queue. Finally get to the front at 00:05 and be told you have to pay 20 zloty 'cos your guest list was only valid before midnight. Queue another twenty minutes to put your coat away (whilst various wankers push in front of you), wriggle your way through rammed dancefloor to a bar. Exchange flirtatious glances with cuties as you do so. Queue for drinks. Drink drinks. Queue for drinks. Queue for toilet. Queue for drinks. Drink drinks. Go onto dancefloor. Discover to your dismay that all the cuties have gone home, apart from two who are surrounded by a impenetrable human wall of guys sporting pointy shoes, tight black t-shirts and pseudo-trendy hair styles. Dance to the same brand of commercial house that every guest DJ and resident plays here for about half an hour, before deciding to go home. Queue for coats. Breath in a deep draught of fresh air and promise yourself never to bother going to Cien again.

5 / 5

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