inSIGHT

5
life

PA G E
Call my buff? Sorry seems to be
the easiest word

>> Club Review: The Buff Club

>> Isabella Poppius

Y
ou’ve probably heard a quip
or two about ”having a night
in the Buff”, but rest assured
that the actual venue is class-
floor – you’ll find retro Americana-like
booths to accommodate larger parties.
Standout nights at the Buff Club
include Tuesday's Killer Kitsch, where
crowd get treated to delightful funky
northern soul classics such as ‘Bad Girls’
and quality Chubby Checker on both
floors. Drinks are reasonably priced on
>>Crystal Chesters

ier than any puns on its name. Situated
on Bath Lane, this little ditty of a club
makes stands out from the crowd with
its bold red façade contrasting with the
murky alley on which it stands. It’s like
a scene from 1970s Harlem, minus the
prostitutes.
The club itself is sprawled on three
different levels: the ground floor houses
a more leisurely relaxation area with a
small-scale dance floor and bar, while
the actual party takes place upstairs on
the main dance floor. If you can make
your way up to the third floor – which
is a balcony area overlooking the dance
DJs dedicate the main dance floor to a
wide range of electro, whilst at ground
level it’s more laid back with various
"It's like a scene
from 1970s
Harlem, minus
the prostitutes."
soul/funk and popular oldies taking
centre stage.
On Fridays it’s ‘Old Skool’ where the
the aforementioned nights and thank
God they serve Kopparberg! For a more
student friendly option, Sunday nights
are free with a matriculation card, and
have music on offer to suit every taste.
The Buff gathers a sophisticated
older crowd that seem to be there mostly
to enjoy the music and have a dance, so
one is definitely safe from cheesy pick-
up lines and dodgy pats on the bottom.
Your usual mix of eclectic artists/
photographers, music connoisseurs and
fashionistas is invariably present and
the crowd creates the atmosphere of a
Glaswegian Studio 54.
H
ow much is it?” the girl asked the shop
assistant. “Five pounds please.” She took
ages, rummaging around in her purse.
The shop assistant stared blandly. “Sorry,”
the girl squirmed. “It’s okay.” It was okay. The shop as-
sistant would be there for the rest of the day anyway.
It didn’t really matter to her.
Eventually the girl spilled the change on the
counter and proceeded to make a bundle which she
crushed into the hand of the shop assistant. “Sorry!”
she cringed. “It’s okay,” the shop assistant repeated.
She bagged the items for the girl. The bag ripped.
“Oh sorry!” the shop assistant spluttered.
“It’s okay!” the girl jumped. And it was okay. No
one was to blame. Bags rip! I was getting more and
more irritated by this scene.

the Mediterranean
The shop assistant handed her the change and
dropped some. “Sorry!” she started.
The girl bent down to the floor, “Oh, s-sorry,” she
stammered. Who was she saying sorry to? The shop
assistant? The money? The floor?!
I sighed, waiting my turn to go through the
0
e.
Do it on the cheap Serves 4
same charade. Right enough, at least twice, ‘sorry’
was exchanged. I bit my lip but try as I might, I
t
e
>> Easy peasy paella 250g rice
500ml stock (vegetable or chicken)
couldn’t knock out my embedded predisposition to
eternal remorse. I think I even said sorry to the door
of
y
>> Michelle Williams 1 onion, diced
½ tsp paprika
I bumped on my way out. And the person who was
coming in the other way apologised, worrying they
¼ tsp turmeric had caused the incident. It’s tiring being part of a

I
Tin chopped tomatoes choir of apologies where everyone is to blame.
f your finances can’t stand the strain of It goes back to the early school days when you
dining out, you can recreate the taste of The following ingredients can be used in amounts didn’t give a shit if your best friend was writhing
Spain at home with this easy paella. according to taste: around on the floor in tears; as long as you got his
The great thing about this recipe Chorizo, cut into small pieces last crisp. The Grim Reaper of Justice, your teacher
is that most of the ingredients are Prawns would rise out of the gloom, reproaching you with
optional or adaptable depending Red pepper, sliced “What do you say? What do you say?!” Your little mind
upon what you might have in the Frozen peas would trawl through the niceties drilled in to you
house, or how solvent you happen Red chilli, cut into small pieces since nursery until “Sorry!” popped out in a graceless
to be – if you’re feeling particu- Garlic, crushed monotone. You didn’t even attempt to conceal your
larly flush, king prawns would Juice of half a lemon insincerity. Your ‘sorry’ gradually began to take on an
be fantastic, but a £2 Iceland Salt & pepper to season unnaturally shrill tone. Nowadays, it’s accompanied
bag will work just as well. by an awkward remorseful grimace instead of the
For a vegetarian alterna- Method blank stare of selfish infancy.
tive, bulk up the peppers, In a wok or large pan, fry the chorizo for about a Britishness is the other perpetrator of this sad
and replace the minute before adding the diced onion and garlic. affair. The problem is illuminated by our European
meat components Cover and cook until onion is soft and beginning neighbours, who gleefully skip queues and complain
with artichoke to brown. about poor restaurant service, while we mutter soft
hearts and chick- Add the spices and peppers, then cook for anoth- laments into our teacups. Humble pie has been
peas. Try serving er five minutes before adding the rice, tomatoes eating us up and it’s time we kept our mouths shut
with olives, and gradually the stock. and stopped being so sorry. Try it next time you go
and crusty Bring to the boil before turning down the heat to the shop for a loaf of bread. I did. The other day
bread with oil and allowing to simmer for about 20 minutes, or I was collecting some beverages at an economical
and vinegar until the liquid has nearly been entirely absorbed. German supermarket when a guy bumped into my
for dipping to If necessary, add more stock until rice is tender. trolley. “Sorry,” he said, face contorted in that horrid
create a Spanish Add the frozen prawns and peas, cook for around grimace. “That was my fault." I held myself back,
experi- five minutes, or until all ingredients are hot sweating with the effort.
ence. through. “Yeah it was your fault,” my friend blurted out. He
Finally, season to taste with ground black pepper swung round, eyes flashing, outraged at the sugges-
and stir in lemon juice. tion. “Oh God, sorry, sorry, sorry!!!” I flooded.
And I hadn’t done a thing wrong.