Bar Review: Market Bar Nottingham

Im not keen on Market Bar, though its fairly apparent that im not really keen on anything. Its not that I don't fit in, I mean, if I think about it, I should fit right in. Im a student, I live in Nottingham, I own a burgundy America Apparel hoody, and, just like everyone else there, my parents will always be more successful than I will ever be. But, as much as I like riding the 50ft wave of Jager off the back of their success, I still don't really understand what is appealing about standing in the dark, shouting at each other. Thats basically what happened when the Americans dropped into Normandy. The technical term is, 'ClusterFuck'.


"Can I have 5 Jagerbombs please and some taste"
"Sorry were fresh out of taste, would you just like another Jager?"
"I suppose"

'Katie and her Beautiful Friends'

The first thing you'll notice when you walk into Market Bar is that it's fucking dark. Its not just dark either, its misty. The only advantage to this, I suppose, is that despite the fact you probably look like you fell into a pit of ugly, the bird, dancing/shuffling/staggering in front of you, who herself is probably related to a moose, thinks you look like a young Patrick Swayze. If you capitalise on this you could end up doing things to her face, with your face, that to a normal person, LOOK DISGUSTING.


Really, i've gotten ahead of myself, I said 'when you walk in', but that's if you get in. You could be one of the many, many, many dickheads who stand outside, in the cold, with no hope. Or you could be one of the righteous customers, who chooses to cross the road and go into BaaBar, mumbling "I didn't want to go in anyway', with the rest of the sheep...get it? Sheep? BaaBar? Brilliant. It makes for a great paradox, you can either stand in the window of BaaBar, watching the queue slowly dwindle, wondering why you left your space. Or you can stand in the cold outside, looking back into BaaBar, wondering why you'd want to be in either.


Apparently when it first opened you could only get in if you were a 'somebody', now they changed the rule to 'anybody', or 'has a body' or possibly 'knows somebody, who's a nobody, but does have a wristband'. Sometimes people put themselves on the guest list in order to get quicker admission. 'The Guest List'? No guest has ever come over to my house and pissed all over my toilet floor, been sick in my sink, danced in my living room and gotten with my dog. Then again, thats just because i throw shit house-parties


I think the main problem with the bar is that not one person, once entering, is competent enough a human being to understand how much there putting in there mouth. It's almost like the hand and mouth have become symbiotic, unable to move away from one another. 


One particular experience  rings to mind. I was standing at the bar with a friend, ordering some drinks, the waitress looked excitable and pleasant enough, so we decided instead of a tip, to buy her a drink. Of course it was a Jagerbomb, what else, they dont serve anything else. This process repeated several times. we found out later, that was in fact, her first shift, and, due to the amount we had bought her, she collapsed and then pissed herself. Thats going right onto a CV.


Aside from it being a tiny, dark, dank, sweaty pit, full of people so pleased with there eventual admission, that they consumed a whole litre of thick, brown, sugar water and managed to pull someone they didn't know from freshers week, only because they couldn't get out of the way due to being asphyxiated by the sheer number of TWATS, the bar itself is shit. Sorry, did I say 'aside' from those things. What I meant was, because of those things its shit

'It really is'

Please dont be drawn into believing it's good because its underground and you can stay up till three in the morning, if you're looking for something underground, that is significantly better, try digging yourself a grave and climbing into it.


Lastly, it should be noted that they run a night called 'Dive', how fitting.

From The Editor 'a pretty sweaty deal'

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