Fast forward a few years and its Wednesday 27th July, I’m due at the City Hall of Bristol City Council to make my representation for the disruption caused by a local night club.

First round, each side is offered a chance to speak.

Then the council members had to decide whether to go to a full review.

Coffee was ordered, which was a bad sign for the nightclub, perhaps it wasn’t going to over quickly…

The committee decided to go for a full review.

Again the for and against side of the license agreement for the club had their slots to speak.

Then a councillor wanted to ask more questions, to clarify various things said.

Although he seemed to be asking questions which didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

Like in a job interview when none of the questions ask about your qualifications, and you don’t get the job because you were under-qualified.

I wasn’t sure how much to add a reply, and a back and forth response was frowned upon by the councillor sitting opposite me.

Unfortunately it wasn’t clear who was chair, and the councillor seemed to derail the meeting with another relevant topic…. drinks spiking.

Another adjournment. Evidence from the neighbourhoods team, 9 other resident complaints, but residents had dropped out of the process.

The lawyer for Lakota kept saying how without police evidence this meeting shouldn’t be happening at all.

I didn’t know whether to scroll back on my phone to the links for young people who died with overdoses and the assaults that happened inside the club.

After 5 hours, the club seemed to have escaped further restrictions, and the councillor whose friend had their drink spiked, decided to extend their license so people can drink outside too.

Maybe the most satisfying aspect of the meeting was the length of time we all had to spend going over noise level monitors and CCTV and when one of the councillors said ‘disgusting’ to my comments on the laughing gas industry sitting on their doorstep.