Sarging Bars - SteviePUA

During my recent holiday/research trip in Spain, I was lucky enough to check out a lot of good bars and clubs. Most places were new to me, but a few were old favourites from the time I used to live in Madrid.

What is it about these places that keeps me coming back? The food? The prices? The character of the places? The people? It's a combination of these for sure.

One of the places I used to go to a lot was The Fontana del Oro, in Madrid. It is right in the centre, near Sol. Round the corner is O'Neill's Bar. Plenty of good nights were had in those places.

Upstairs in the Fontana was more a place to open people. It was quite noisy and had a good energy. There is a quiet area downstairs where it is good for isolation. I recommend the isolation area during the week when it is less busy and more private.

O Neill's was good for day two meetings and for building rapport but did not have a great many private areas for isolation.

And this was only Madrid! There was Valencia, Cadiz, Cordoba, Almeria (when I was on the trail of Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood and Steven Spielberg/Harrison Ford) and Alicante. The latter was good for tourist chicas but not as authentically Spanish as the other places. Too much high class Euro trash for my liking. And remember - they party LATE in Spain. Got to sleep.

On Friday I met Paul Gascoigne (Gazza), the former England footballer, in a club in Newcastle. Days earlier, I'd been telling my girl about the best goal I ever saw. It was Paul Gascoigne's goal for England against Scotland in 1996. I showed her the goal on Youtube and she had to admit to being impressed at Gazza's skill in chipping the ball over Colin Hendry's head, running around him and volleying the ball into the back of the net.

Now, sitting in the corner of the club was Gazza and his two friends. Or should I call them 'minders'? Or maybe they were 'carers' because Gazza was in a bad state. He was totally wasted from the booze and hardly knew where he was. I didn't recognise him at first, but sure enough, I looked again, and it was definitely him.

Gazza was drinking Guinness and seemed to also be under the influence of his friends who were lining up shots for him and moving him around the club. 'Paul, over here! Gazza, man, this is yours', beckoning to him and trying to get him to focus. Gazza staggered around half-propped up by the people shaking his hand. There was a private party upstairs and hot girls were coming down to meet him. Some hugged him but he didn't seem to quite register who they were. A vacant smile suggested enjoyment, generally, though.

Then Gazza saw me. We locked eyes and Gazza seemed to be hallucinating. 'Say that again, mate, and I'll f***ing...', waving his fist in my direction. I looked behind me to see who he was threatening. But there was only me there. He repeated his warning a second time, though I had not spoken to him at all! I just smiled and acknowledged him with a nod of my head. A glass was smashed by his entourage near the entrance and the commotion increased.

Outside the club, barely 5 minutes later, he was my new friend, introducing himself and shaking my hand while he smoked and sang songs with the club doorman who seemed as excited as the chicks to be hanging out with Gazza. Welcome to Merry Old England.

I gatecrashed the private party and the doorman arranged for Gazza to have a private room upstairs too, and we hung out. Jimmy '5 Bellies' Gardner appeared on the scene and took charge. Gazza was moving on and his friends/carers were arguing over who was going to look after Paul that night.

Outside, 30,000 football supporters were leaving the stadium after a 5-1 Newcastle win over Cardiff. The police were everywhere and I found myself hoping the Newcastle fans wouldn't recognise their hero because it would only bring infinitely more partying to Gazza's scrambled senses.

Footage below.
 

Welcome to Stevie's Bar Notes.

Here you will find my current thoughts on bar & pub game.