Smoking Kills — Restaurant in Gauteng

I was racially profiled at the door by their bouncer. As a Coloured person, I was thoroughly searched before being allowed in. My friend, who is white and literally just arrived in Johannesburg for the first time ever, walked in behind me without so much as a pat-down. When I asked the bouncer why he wasn’t searched too, his response was: “I know him.”

A lie. An obvious, lazy lie.

We left immediately.

This isn’t just about me being searched. This is about how normalized racism is at this so-called “cool” bar. The rules clearly change depending on your skin tone. There was no apology. No accountability. Just a smug bouncer gatekeeping the door like apartheid never ended.

Melville prides itself on being progressive and inclusive, but venues like Smoking Kills drag us backwards. If you’re white, you’ll probably be welcomed with open arms. If you’re not, expect to be treated like a threat.

To the owners: Do better. Train your staff. And perhaps take some sensitivity training yourself.

If you’re a person of color, queer, or just someone with a conscience – go somewhere else. Smoking Kills doesn’t deserve your money, your presence, or...

I found Smoking Kills whilst running through Melville after a cat stole my sandwich. I didn't want to fight the cat, I wanted to offer him some guidance and maybe a R20 for some bread. But I lost my train of thought when I heard the vibey emo music inside SK. He had lead me there on purpose. Suddenly, I was roped in, as if they were my family that had been waiting for me all afternoon. Cocktails galore, I was served and waited on by a tattooed emo goddess. I am surprised it is even on Google Maps, and that it is even a real place. Time and time again, if I'm in the area, I look for said cat to guide me to the right door, despite my further memory of the evening being wiped each time. 10/10 recommend, although you will spill all your deepest secrets, and might throw your lungs up 🫶

(PS, LGBT+ safe space, free of all bigots. Tattooed Goddess will kick any tomfoolery-causers into another dimension, where they are minced and fed to The Cat) (PPS, if you can't find The Cat, I am told he has a rooster friend that sometimes remembers the...

One cold, quiet, and lonely (but not so lonely bc the bar was bustling) night we stumbled into this unassuming hole in the wall some time in 2019/2020. I may have left that night (crawled out, some might say) but my heart did not. This bar has everything; cocktails to kill for, graffiti by local artists and bar patrons, live music and djs, and last but not least, a moustache hipster barman that harbours a secret. Come closer, I’ll tell you…The blood of none other than Odin the almighty courses through his veins. When he walks behind the counter, his feet hover about an inch off of the ground. When he pours your dark and stormy, you can see lightning flash across his irises. When he passes you the yoco, you can hear choruses of valkyries singing. Never have I imagined that I would experience the divine in the flesh but he’s there, almost every night, walking among us mortals, getting us fxxked up. Thank you Smoking Kills for the sanctuary, and thank you Odinson, for...