There’s no sugar-coating it, Fat Pat’s is in a pretty filthy alley. Not pointing the finger at anyone in particular, a lot of businesses share it, and you know who you are, but it’s filthy, and objectively so. There are catering size tin cans full of rain water and fag butts, and it’s lined with big industrial bins. 15 of them, doing a quick head count. That’s just loads of bins.
A few doors down is a massage parlour called Tropical Palms, and there’s a van tipping out crates upon crates of mushrooms for one of the Chinese restaurants on Faulkner Street. ‘It ain’t The Ritz’ is a phrase that gets bandied around a fair bit, but this really isn’t. It is very much not The Ritz. You get the picture anyway.
