THE CUBAN BROTHERS

So I'm out on a date with a guy I met on the internet. Its not going well! In fact its going shit! He took me to see the Zoo art exhibition in Shoreditch. It became quite apparent after 5 minutes we had nothing in common, especially when he starts saying quite loudly for everyone to hear, that "I feel this exhibition as an under laying religious tone, with its simplicity. It must be Protestantism, don't you feel carly?" All I could do was walk off into the corners and pretend to look at pictures but really all I was doing was pissing myself! This didn't go down to well with the exhibiting artists, as they all thought I was laughing at their work! So in the end all I could do was look at my phone to check the time and hope this disaster was nearly over. It was on one of these occasional looks, that I saw a text message off one of my best friends Hannah Inviting me to come and join her at Bungalow 8. Hannah's boyfriend is the Manger of Bungalow 8, which is one of the most exclusive nightclubs in London. It's where you see all the drunken pictures of Celebrity's falling out of it's doors in the early hours of the morning. Not normally my cup of tea, but with free drinks thrown in all night I was tempted. The thing that clinched it though was the chance to see the Cuba brothers. I have heard lots about them from friends who had seen them on the festival circuit and they all said they were a must see! So I quickly decided to ditch the date, as he was boring the hell out of me with all his bullshit! I said I had to go and meet a friend and left him looking a bit dumb founded at the bus stop! I think it might do him good this little rejection, as I think he thought he was God's gift to women.
I picked up my friend Debs on the way, and headed down there.  We got the star treatment from Hannah's boyfriend,  who put us on a table right next to the dance floor and next to the action.  we also had free mojitos laid on all night.  On most night's this would be my highlight, but thats before four men came out dressed in tight spandex suits, with blonde wigs and moustaches and performed crazy B boy moves and sang crazy songs, in crazy accents (My idea of quality entertainment!)  The Cuban Brothers did not disappoint, they were the best act I have seen in ages, and after one to many mojitos me and Hannah decided it would be a good idea to join in their routine by getting on the dance floor with them and doing our own crazy dance moves!After the club shut (God knows at what time that was, as I was so drunk by then!) we got asked back to the owner of Bungalow 8 (The queen of the New York club scene, Amy Sacco), palatial Covent Garden pad (Oh!  How the other half live!) to party away to the early hours of the morning and hang with the Cuban Brothers, which was so cool!  In fact I was talking to the lead guy who is actually called Mike Keat and hales from Glasgow (Not very Latin then!)  I did eventually leave, but not before I challeneged Amy sacco to a karoke contest, and finished off by throwing by phone to her face and telling her in a slurred manner, "Could you tell the taxi man where you live, because I haven't got a sodding clue, and he won't take my answer of it bloody big, cost shit loads and is somewhere in Convent Garden!"  I know how to leave in style?  I rolled into bed at about 7.00am I think?  Aren't I meant to be slowing down now I'm 30?
Check out this montage of the cuban brothers at their best.