Martin Kuczmarski, founder of the Dover, London
Discretion is priority number one at The Dover. We don’t do the thing where restaurants boast about who walked through the door, or have Daily Mail paparazzi standing outside. We keep it quiet, but not secretive: if you see Pedro Pascal having dinner, it is what it is. London’s late-night scene disappeared after the pandemic because customers and restaurants got a bit lazy, but we serve food until midnight or 1am and drinks until 1 or 2, so we’ve become very busy after 10pm. The atmosphere shifts – earlier is more mellow, later is livelier and a bit more naughty – but it’s not a different customer. The younger generation still goes out. Maybe they drink a bit less than we did, but they do go out.
Simone Crepaldi, operations manager, Shoreditch
We’re open until 3am, and I'd say around 80% of the guests are pretty civilised, but you always have 20% who’re pretty weird. Not all necessarily bad, sometimes they’ll just have silly requests, like asking to go to the bar downstairs. No bar exists downstairs. Early in the week our back lounge is closed to the public, and one night my assistant manager had this table in the front that had disappeared for a long time. So he went inside the back lounge, opened the curtain, and found a couple... My colleague was like, “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you need to go.”
Bartender, anonymous, Manchester
We often see people chopping up a line of cocaine on the bar top in front of everyone. A lot of the time they think it's OK – they don’t understand why they're getting thrown out. Either that or lighting and smoking cigarettes inside, and not understanding that’s a problem.
Eran Tibi, founder of Kapara, London
There’s something about the West End – a charm or a spell that always drives you to explore more. The late-night people, you never trust them – and I mean that in a good way. We are there to serve them and to hug them. You can come in off your face if you want and we’ll sort you out. We literally accept everything from everyone. When there’s more than one person getting out of a toilet cubicle… I do wonder, but I never ask questions.
Daniel Pilarz, bar manager at the Ministry private member’s club, London
Working late nights isn’t for everyone. Bar work means early starts, late finishes, dealing with intoxicated guests. But you get to meet incredible people, build lasting friendships, be part of amazing events – the kind you’d never experience working in any other industry. Charm and chaos comes with the job. It’s important to remember that boundaries aren’t barriers – they’re balance.
Bar manager, anonymous, London
Our team is trained to recognise the signals of intoxication, and as long as customers are respectful and their drug use doesn't affect the other guests, we leave them to it. Of course, if any of them seem as though they’re going over a certain limit, then we'll eject them. If you don't let these people into bars, business would be dead.
Edmund Weil, co-founder of Nightjar, Swift and Oriole, London
One New Year’s Eve, our floor staff forgot to check the disabled toilet after our guests had left. Just as we were closing the venue, in the small hours of the morning, a well-dressed but dishevelled-looking couple walked the walk of shame past the whole crew after going at it for hours in the loo. We were impressed by their stamina – and quickly learnt to always check all the bathrooms at the end of every service. A well-known supermodel visited one of the bars in full vintage crossdress – including a three-piece tweed suit and a pretty convincing fake moustache. She pulled it off with panache.
Bartender, anonymous, Brighton
It’s a cliché, but this industry is not for the faint-hearted, especially if you’re a woman. After years of being hit on and letched over by drunk men I’ve grown a pretty hard exterior. It can be hard to shake even when I’m not working. There’s always one person who has a bag of drugs and a bunch of people hovering around them, nipping off to the toilets in ones or twos. If they’re not causing an issue, most of the time we ignore them. It’s often more hassle to chuck them out.
Pietro Collina, beverage director, Viajante87 and Thesleff Group
I once had to cut off a Fortune 500 CEO who wasn’t used to being told “no.” The key in those situations is respect: stay calm, never raise your voice, handle it with charm and professionalism. In great late-night service there’s a seamless blend between guest and staff energy. It can almost feel like you’re part of the same party. But that’s an illusion. You must maintain perspective and remember that your role is to create the experience, not to be swept up in it. Most late-night guests don’t want chaos - they just want connection.
Jasper Delamothe, founder of Oranj, London
There is a time of night when the mood changes. You know, you turn a corner – and 11pm is probably that corner. That’s when people get up and start dancing. We’ve had them dancing on tables or chairs before. It’s just the city boys who tend to get out of hand. We don't get too many of them, but one too many negronis and they get a bit rowdy.
Andy Kerr, co-founder of Parasol, the Sun Tavern, the Discounted Suit Company and more, London
With bartenders and restaurant workers, how you choose to live is up to you: you can have fun with the customers and have a party, but a lot of the time you don’t. I really like working at night because you can do stuff in the day: go to the gym, see your friends, go for lunch. I'm more healthy when I work nights.
Ed McIlroy, chef and publican, the Plimsoll, London
I don’t use our full licence at the Plimsoll, we don’t make any money after 11pm because everyone’s blasted by then and doing packet. It’s a very British thing, our binge culture. All of the problems I’ve had in the pub have been later on at night. I’ve kicked a group out because one of the guys was putting his hand up a waitress’s skirt. I’ve had a guy throw up all over a table and into a wine bucket. It all tends to happen when you’re about to close, that’s when the chaos begins.
