Entering Maverick Ladies’ Lounge with my bewildered boyfriend in tow, I half expected some sirens to go off and shutters to come down on the door: “Danger, danger. Man detected!”

I’d promised him a quick drink in Rochester, to make up for dragging him to watch the latest Bridget Jones at the cinema - where he’d experienced a women-to-men ratio of 200:1 - but hadn’t specified where.

You can imagine his face as he realised that, rather than the refuge of a pub with the footie on, he was, yet again, totally outnumbered. This was a ball-free zone.

Maverick opened in 2023, promising to provide a safe space for women to enjoy a few drinks, indulge in a bottomless brunch or let off some steam on the dance floor.

While men aren’t exactly banned, they must be accompanied by a woman, whether it’s a friend, partner or relative.

But as my other half pointed out, the entry requirements are fairly self-policing - the place was bathed in neon pink lights and had Dolly Parton blasting out as we arrived.

I had worried it might be a hostile environment for him but, frankly, I was a little scared myself.

A bottomless brunch (a loose term given the sun had set some time ago) had just come to an end and the dance floor was packed with merry ladies sporting what looked like neon lightsabers, singing their lungs out to some end-of-night anthems.

I checked my phone. It was 6pm.

The menu was made up of iced slushies with names like Dodged a Bullet and Back in the Game, plus classic cocktails. I had a piña colada, he had a Toxic Bitch - might I be sensing some residual hostility over this date night? - and we retreated to the seated area away from the caterwauling.

Both drinks were big on ice, big on volume and I wondered how many/few it would take before I too was waving a glow-in-the-dark baton around to Taylor Swift.

Mine went down alright but his - a vodka, curaçao, orange, mango and lemonade concoction - had a slight aftertaste of unleaded. Sometimes ‘lady petrol’ can be taken too literally.

I went for a look around the rooms, decorated with flowers, fairy lights and tinsel curtains, but when I returned, to my horror, the boyfriend had vanished.

I thought perhaps he’d been shamefully marched out by security because I had left him unattended, but it didn’t take long to find him.

A stream of giggling women had dragged him into their conga line, and soon I’d been swept up too.

I hadn’t needed to worry about any anti-man hostility. This was the most friendly, welcoming, judgement-free bar I can remember going to, and I could definitely see why it would appeal for a fun, hassle-free girls’ night.

While the sisterhood was cajoling my other half into their limbo competition, I got us some of the adult slushies - a passionfruit-flavoured Bitch, Please! and a mojito-esque Sorry, I Don’t Speak Snake.

Again, these were more ‘means to an end’ drinks than ones to be savoured, and this time with the risk of brain freeze too, but they were good fuel for the dance floor and soon had us on our feet. Frankly, our new friends left us with little choice anyway.

At this point, as the last of the brunchers were filing out, or perhaps just to get rid of the stench of man, a member of staff went around the room spraying an air freshener. Whatever the reason, it seemed like a good time to hit the road.

When I first heard about the concept of Maverick, I wasn’t sure what to think. I don’t like the idea of exclusion and stereotypes. I was slightly hurt on behalf of all my upstanding, respectful male friends.

But reading some of the unpleasant online reactions to the ladies’ lounge opening made me rethink how sadly necessary it was.

Men lined up to rail against the injustice and belittle the potential patrons.

Some scoffed over who would pay for drinks if they weren’t allowed in, one described it as a “club for lesbians” - another said it would be full of “drunk, angry feminists”.

The truth is, all of these curiously furious objections to being denied solo entry to a girly cocktail bar gloss over the fact that women, on the whole, often have very different experiences of nights out than men.

Chaps, be honest. Do you feel the need to hold your hand over your drink for fear of being spiked? Do you have to consider whether your choice of outfit makes you more at risk of unwanted attention? Been cat-called at the taxi rank?

The odds are, probably not. So really, if there’s somewhere women can go where they feel more at ease, surely that’s a good thing?

And lads, if you really want to dance the night away to Dolly Parton, you just need to find a willing woman to take you. I think that’s fair enough.

Catch up with the Secret Drinker’s latest review here

Maverick Ladies Lounge, 16 High Street, Rochester, ME1 1PX

Décor: Imagine if Peter Kay’s Phoenix Club had gone down the glam route. The bar was modern and nicely styled but the rest felt a little old-fashioned and functional - think carpets, dado rails and shiny tablecloths **

Drinks: This is a place for dancing and laughing, not cooing over the subtle flavours of artisan gins or marvelling at dry ice masterpieces. But they were refreshing enough and fuel for the dance floor **

Price: Most cocktails came in at the £9 mark, but you can get 2 for £12 on selected drinks during happy hour which is 6pm to 8pm, Fridays and Saturdays. Particularly good value are the bottomless brunches at around £50 for 90 minutes of food, free-flowing pitchers and entertainment. Get your squad together for one of the themed sessions - think Tina Turner, ABBA and Barbie ****

Staff: Everyone was super friendly and the girls behind the bar were clearly having a ball, dancing to the music and singing along as they prepared the drinks *****

Best for: Hen do or a girls’ night out