‘Some things are better left unsaid.’ Unfortunately, as one unspoken nightclub has admitted today, this aphorism is not an effective business model for a nighttime bar and discotheque.
‘Taboo’ is the name, and not speaking about it is the game. People avoid the ‘Taboo’ at all costs: no one discusses it, goes into it, or remembers it. The cursed club is shrouded it its own shadow of unmentionability, as – once again – nominative determinism rears its ugly head.
The inadvertent speakeasy is situated on the B-side of The Triangle between La Rocca and Piri Piri (if you reach the Hunger Hatch you’ve gone too far). The establishment’s inside is damp, warm and partially ventilated – the perfect conditions for either seed germination or an adequate 5/10 night out.
The Whip spoke to the one regular of the club this morning, reflecting on the naming blunder,
“I’d call it an oversight, yes. I always thought ‘Taboo’ sounded kind of alluring and maybe a bit sexy; but I didn’t realise people took it quite so literally.
“I’m not upset, but I would appreciate consistency in this whole nominative determinism malarkey. They don’t get spoken about, but Mbargos doesn’t get trade sanctions imposed on it, and Lizard Lounge isn’t reserved for gecko’s kicking back, a Corona in one hand and good vibes in the other.”
The Whip also attempted to get some interviews with other members of the student body but, unfortunately, no one had heard about the club in question, or if they had, they refused to talk about it.