I was in London at the weekend. We ended up in a members-only club lit only by candlelight and cucumber-water (try it, it’s amazing) on the tables, playing music from the 1920s-1940s and it felt like (what I imagine) was just like a speakeasy from the time of prohibition in the 1920s.
I thought I could do the Charleston.
As it stands I wasn’t so great at it and the throbbing vein in that bald man’s head told me so.
