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On entering cheeks, you will notice, firstly the obscure purple lighting, followed by the realisation that bottles of shitty beer are a pound each only for another 10 minutes. With that, generally you will buy 10 bottles and wander round with all ten fingers in a bottle, your feet sticking to the carpet like superglue and wondering why there are paintings of people on the beach on the walls.
Do not try and approach the local ladies, even to ask where the best place for a getting a taxi is. The reply "We fooking hate squaddies" is a well heard call.
Frequented by members of the Army School of Physical Training interestingly.