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Last night I decided to go out for my last night in London.  I started off with my hostel-mates Vadim, Ross, and Bazel but we ended up seperating because they wanted to hit the bars and I was trying to go to a dance club.  There is a popular club called Zoo (or something like that) that the bartender at the hostel told me was a happening place.  In front of the club there was a large line for people and opposite to that a guest list line which is pretty much standard procedure for a regular night club.  It was about midnight and raining outside so I had on my hoodie, some jeans, and black shoes.  I wasn’t sure about what the cover charge was so I approached one of the security guards to ask him.  I go up to the guy, ask him the cover, and was told “Sorry, mate this club is guest list only tonight.”  Really?  I tell him, “well, the guy that recommended this place to me at my hostel didn’t say anything about that.”  He then tells me that whoever told me that didn’t know what they were talking about and that the only people allowed in the club have to be on the guest list, NO EXCEPTIONS.  I wasn’t trying to argue with the guy so I thanked him for the information and continued to walk on.  I then see a guy standing not far from the club with a jacket on that says “Zoo bar assistance”.  I walk up to him and ask him what the deal is with the club, if it is guest list only, and if there is a cover charge.  The guy looks at me and says “NO, it’s not guest list only.  Who told you that?”  I point to the security guard that told me that.  He then says, “Here’s the deal.  The other security guard probably thought that you were a Londoner.  They try to keep out young Londoners, black or white (he emphasized this as to not appear racist, I’m thinking), that they think might want to come in and start trouble.”  He then asks me if I had actually spoken to the guy.  I told him yes I did speak with him and I’m sure he could have made out that I was from out of town just by my accent.  I then say, “Well, do I look like a Londoner?”  He says, “Yes, you do.  If you would have just come up to me without saying anything I would have never guessed that you were not from London.”  Ooookay.  He then takes me up to the short guest list line, talks the the security guard up there and tells him that I’m from America.  I’m then escorted ahead of everyone to the booth to pay for my entry and get in the club.  I guess all my effort to not look like a tourist was not in vain, but once again it can be a gift and a curse.