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    A Beginner's Guide To Kings Cross.

    It's the most well known party location in Sydney. Here's a walkthrough so you know what to expect.

    You've had a long day.

    But now it's time to go out!

    It's time to get DRUNK. That'll ease the pain of life.

    But where to go?

    Drink at home?

    The pub?

    "What about The Cross?"

    You dress yourself up constantly questioning your choice of clothing.

    But you finally find something that makes you look acceptable.

    Now it's time for the best part of your night - PUBLIC TRANSPORT!

    Just Kidding.

    After what feels like FOREVER you finally get to the City.

    You wait for one of your STUPID friends to take a photo of that fucking Coke sign...

    But where to go?

    "I wanna go somewhere nice" says a friend.

    You don't care - You just need alcohol.

    Everyone decides on a place.

    But you're stopped outside by an Islander/Bald White Guy who asks for your ID and some money.

    Life sucks.

    But now you can get drunk!

    You walk inside trying to make an entrance.

    But you're instantly taken aback by the taste of Chlamydia and Herpes in the air.

    After some time you decide to get some drinks.

    You order your drink, hand over $20, and wait for your change.

    But it never comes.

    Never.

    You begin to wonder if you should move to another country.

    Australia has such expensive alcohol.

    And cover charges.

    And life in general.

    But then you start listening to the music and you're like -

    You don't even care about all the sweaty people you're touching.

    Or the amount of money you're gonna have to spend to get suitably drunk.

    'Cause tonight ain't gonna be ruined by anyone.

    Just as you're settling in, your friends want to leave.

    Whatever - fine - maybe you can get a kebab outside...

    But your friends want to go to World Bar.

    You go through the same routine -

    Money.

    Cover Charge.

    I.D

    Alcohol.

    But this time you feel a whole bunch less cool.

    All these kids standing around you with their patterned shirts and ironic tattoos.

    You're over it. It's 3am. You won't get home till 4 at this rate.

    You leave, hop in a taxi, and refuse to check your bank balance.

    It's over. And you have work in the morning.