“I get the back table near the loos most evenings and talk with my writer friends about death”
Janet’s Bar is a drinking hole slapped about with tat in the fading opulence of South Kensington. I love this place. I get the back table near the loos most evenings and talk with my writer friends about death. Last night we stayed later than usual and Janet came in. it was like sitting at KFC and spotting the Colonel Sanders or having Ronald MacDonald serve you a Big Mac. We were nearly at the end of our second bottle of £30 Merlot when Janet said “right gentlemen?” I think she was letting us know she was in the house and it was time to buy a third bottle or get the fuck off the cool table. She looked exactly like all the cartoons and sketches of her on the walls. I said goodbye to her on our way out and she snarled a smile. It was great to finally meet her. As depicted on he walls she is quite the caricature. She keeps South Ken a bit boho. Hungry, we stopped by MORE THAN JUST SUBS across the road. Not a sex club like the name suggests but a take away joint designed by drunks for drunks. The place serves Poutine relentlessly, a dish originating from the Canadian province of Quebec, consisting of French fries and cheese curds topped with a brown gravy. No hungry bottoms here just lots of hungry trustafarians slumming it.