Monkey Bar

This is what happens when your urge to dance takes over you like the demons took over Emily Rose.

Saturday Night. Picture this: Scarlet Johansson steps out of a steaming pool and walks into the sauna and you’re the only other person there… That’s how hot the weather was. What? It’s called painting a picture!

Anyhoo, so we were pretty fucking smashed as we headed over to the nighttime hotspot numero somewhere near uno, Monkey Bar. Damned if we know where we were at before – if we did, wouldn’t we be writing about that place?

The bouncers did the only thing they are good at, when we got there – tell us we couldn’t enter. How do these guys make any money if they keep turning people away? But lucky for us, our pal Mimosa (course that’s not her real name) was there too. She waved the bouncers away as if they were annoying flies and voila! We were in!

We made a beeline for our favorite spot – right next to the bar or the DJ, in this case it was the same thing. Or rather, we tried to.

The joint was so effing crowded, it was as if a Zombie Apocalypse had hit Bandra and this was the only safe house. To be fair, some of the inmates seemed like crazed zombies themselves (MJ’s thriller, anyone?)

Two potent ‘Saat Raastas’ down, every raasta looked like it led to the dance floor. What followed was a dance off so insane that NOW the people backing off from us completely makes sense.

An hour of bhangra, dubstep, hip hop edm later that fucking master of a DJ Nucleya’ed the shit out of all of us there. Long story short, we were walking out 15 minutes later with massive drunken grins having very proudly, “Fucked that shit”.

Where? Linking Road, Bandra West

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