From my personal experience, I’ve been to Tiger Tiger a handful of times in Manchester shortly after my shamefully green coloured ID was acceptable for me to be granted access into the painted cardboard interior of the club. Albeit I am aware that there are slight variations between the clubs after interacting with the Leeds chain by urinating on its structural foundations, I feel as though it is acceptable for me to stereotype. This is because my experience with the duo aforementioned suggests to me that they all seem to follow the same generic formula of using plastic chandeliers, epilepsy inducing wallpaper, and a playlist consisting of approximately 5 different songs (four of which are Rihanna) to attract a demographic which forms an entirely new subculture.
So, according to coherently based logic, the members of this mutated subculture that is undeniably duped by the ‘it’s so good they named it twice’ mentality must enjoy Tiger Tiger for the following reasons:
-They absolutely adore expensive drinks in which the vodka tastes like it’s rudimentary stage of a dirty, unfermented potato.
-They enjoy the idea that Tiger Tiger itself has yet to decide whether it is a mainstream club in which the water from the stream is stagnant from commodification; a bar in which the 70s disco ball has been added to provide a touch of class to proceedings and to also act as a distraction from the grey tinge to your fishbowl of cocktail; or a restaurant....seriously?! I would rip this aspect to the mismatched franchise to shreds but unfortunately I have sensibly guarded myself from even making eye contact with their interpretation of steak and chips, which is probably manufactured from their surplus of fluorescent upholstery.
-They see the predictable and heavily limited playlist as an opportunity to numb their minds quicker than the gritty spirits that are being served in their infected beverages.
However, I am fully aware that advocates for the Tiger Tiger brand will defend their hunting ground for alcohol induced slavery through some disappointing and banal response such as: if it’s so shit then why do people go?
In effect, Tiger Tiger is a fascist institute by which the bovine masses herd together within the ‘Groovy Wonderland’ room to be heavily photo-shopped by some arrogant, well-groomed photographer. This is because the manipulative ability of Tiger Tiger has caused a section of the nightclubbing population to lose their independent capacity of what a night-out should actually be.