When a new bar opens up in London's clubland I'm invariably the last to know. So when I heard about the glitzy new bar/club Electric Birdcage, I felt as smug as Simon Cowell.
This time I would be the one asking the girls to the latest bar on the block and they'd party on, thanks to my fingers being firmly on the pulse.
Predictably when I suggested Birdcage, they had already heard of it. But they were still up for joining me on Saturday night to check it out its flamboyant style. When we arrived we found the girls on the door weren't the most welcoming.
"Are you on the guest-list? "they grilled us. We could see through the windows that inside, the place was already jumping - we smiled happily back that we had reserved a table.
Behind us in the queue, a group of lads were told that if they went home and changed their clothes they would have a better chance of getting in. This is proper West End central - if they don't like the cut of your jib, or your jacket, no amount of sweet-talking will get you through the door.
The interior is like a Matthew Bourne ballet stage set - all monochrome with exaggerated props like the carousel-shaped bar, birdcage chandeliers and wacky Vegas-style mirrors. The crowd was even more of a visual treat. Gangs of girls were parading around in sequined mini dresses and guys were in jeans and trendy shirts.
A blonde waitress in an unfeasibly short, tight airline stewardess uniform that looked like it had been nicked from Eurovision entry Scooch's wardrobe came to take our drinks order as we lounged on the white plastic sofas around the edge of the room. Looking around to see what everyone was drinking, we spotted the table next to us slurping out of one huge glass. This devilish champagne-based cocktail for eight people is called Electric Birdcage (£95) and comes in what looks more like a fishbowl than a feathery coop.
We considered it, for about a second. What if one of us was more greedy than the rest? No, we would have one cocktail each.
My friend Wendy and I went for the safe choice of classic bellinis, while Daryl took the house speciality, a fruity Birdcage Passion. At £9.50 a pop, the cocktails are not cheap, but they are made with fresh ingredients. Jo had an exotic Asian Gin Punch which even had lemongrass sticks in it - perfect for our food order of dim sum, noodles and rice.
My boyfriend, Gideon, went for a rather camp cosmopolitan cocktail, but he was in good company. This place is full of kitsch - the DJ plays from a birdcage, there's a blown-up photo of Barbara Windsor and inside the gents' I'm told there are mirrors in front of the urinals. Blimey. The mixture of men and women, straight and gay, were loving the thumping house music in the lively back room, which is more like a mini-club.
In the bar area, the tunes were less housey and more pop - Madonna, Britney and JT which, combined with a couple more cocktails each, gave us enough confidence to dive into the throng and dance with some randoms.
A group of girls and a wacky guy were downing shots straight out of a schnapps bottle as they danced, half posing, half mucking around. Before I knew it, they were pouring the stuff down my throat. Well, that's one way to make new friends.
Meanwhile, Wendy was chatting to some some gorgeous-looking boys, but then we lost them in the crowd. We headed back to the bar area and shimmied our way around the room until we shuffled off, feet sore but grinning happily around 3am - a whole hour before the bar actually closed. Who said I couldn't be responsible for a fun night out?
Electric Birdcage, 11 Haymarket, SW1 (electricbirdcage.com), midday-4am Monday-Saturday, free before 10pm, £20 after
