There was always a queue to get in, too many drinks in an easy pub before hand and you were in trouble. You had twenty stairs to practise your date of birth. Even at the bottom of them you could hear ‘You Spin Me Right Round.’
You had to have your wits about you to get out the way when some one was thrown downstairs. The bouncers had bets to see how many punters they could take out with the ejected.
Bar number one was always busy, it was the first one in the door.
The balding guy sat there waiting for that song to be played. He would do his head flips, how the crowd would laugh.
The crowd waited for that song to be played so that they could laugh when he landed on his bald head.
Michael moved from the first bar to the second, he finished his drink and waited to be served. Michael wouldn’t make it home that night. He would be stabbed after an argument over a debt. He swayed to ‘Rock Lobster’ and smiled, he wondered if he would get lucky that night.
The toilets were just next to this bar, they were busy as always. The young boy passed out on the floor was revived as his friends pissed on him. One of the bouncers walked in, punched both of them and dragged them all out.
The under-agers sniggered at ‘Can You Feel It’.
There was a long passageway between bar two and three. This was where the couples kissed and groped. The bouncers stood close by. Every now and then they would throw some of the boys out. The girls would protest and be told that the police would be called. They ended up in the store cupboard with the mattress on the floor giving out very grateful blow jobs. Those who didn’t and followed their boyfriends out the door gave even more grateful blow jobs.
Bar three was always busy, there was a small dance floor and it was one for all those who knew each other. They sat on the dance floor and straddled each other as they swayed to ‘Rock The Boat’.
Tables surrounded this dance floor and those that sat there had just met, they would move on to the passageway the following week.
The walkway between bar three and four was the darkest part of the club. Enthusiastic handshakes concealed many deals. This was watched by one bouncer. He counted. This was where Michael owed money.
Bar four was where the old alkies drank. They were regulars of the pub downstairs but frequented the disco Friday and Saturday nights as it was open longer. They would nod and lament when ‘New York, New York’ was played. They didn’t bother anyone but if they got a proposition from a teenage girl looking for a drink, they would grab the opportunity as keenly as they would grab the young girls tits. They would sometimes get a shot of the mattress if they had a tenner to give the nearest bouncer. Jimmy did. The bouncer laughed as he recognised the girl who was with him. Claire was in his daughters class at school. Jimmy was in for a very pleasant time.
The main dance floor was never empty. The DJ was too shrewd for that. The music was a mixture of recent, old classics, cult songs for that club only and the zany. With four bars there was always more than enough drunks to dance.
The beginning of the night was for the genuinely attracted. The middle was for the drunk and the end of the night was for the desperate. They would end up with anyone who would accept a tongue down their throat and a finger up their skirt.
The cloak room was always busy. There was always someone at the door to watch for the punters. The other member of staff rifled through all the pockets, fiddled the tickets and screwed the till.
The exit door was the same as the entrance door. A few ladies of the night stood there, smoked and drank gin. They laughed as they told stories of virgins with enthusiastic cocks. One trouser stroke and the boys made a mess of themselves before they got near what they’d already paid for.
The club was a perfect square and this brought you right back to bar one. ‘Jingo’ had just finished playing.
The sound of laughter rang out.
The old balding guy returned to his seat. His head was bleeding.
literally stories 
Love the tone here Hugh – cold and emotionless. Have a real sense of moving through the bars. Vivid and harsh. Great stuff!
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Thanks so much Neil.
It was a rather surreal experience writing this. I think most folks will realise that it is based on one specific place and I took it from there. But a lot of the memories took on a life of their own.
Thanks again for the kind comments!
Hugh
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Understated and well written. Kind of a symbolic walk through the darker side of life. Being a balding guy (ok, a bald guy) I especially like how the story loops back to the fellow who did the head flips.
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Hi David,
Thanks so much!
To use the word ‘understated’ is a compliment as this was what I was going for.
A matter-of-fact style can be strangely more powerful than full on emotion.
Hah! Coldness maybe suits me!!!
Thanks as always, it’s great to see you continually around the site!
Hugh
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Passing from bar to bar, stair to stair, the reader becomes an omnipotent ghost inside this story. A rare piece in which the narrator vanishes and the reader is left alone to examine the treasure. Obviously a brilliant product of this upstanding writer, who only frequents such places as a means of research.
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Thank you so much!
To take you along without me intruding is high praise indeed!
I researched this place to death in the early eighties!
Thanks as always, your interest in my work makes my day worth while!!!
Hugh
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It’s not always A Wonderful World, is it, Hugh! Best, always, June
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I keep trying to persuade myself that it is!! But then I reminisce!!
It is always a pleasure to hear from you June!!!
Hugh
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For reasons obscure, jennysdatingadvice liked what I said about your story. Well, I like you too, jenny; but I am certain that I will not appreciate any comment whatsoever from billcosbysdatingadvice.
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OOOOHHHH, it’s a swinger site. And me with my loin cloth at the dry cleaners.
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Send the image to Diane, I’m quite sure she could use it.
……………For a story that is!!!!
Hugh
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Hugh,
This is a chilling narrative that evokes the desperation so many have in attempting to escape a humdrum world for excitement–only to discover this is not the way out. The tone works really well, suggesting the outward ‘hipness’ is hiding an empty soul.
Alan (Gerstle)
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Hi Alan,
My apologies as I had missed this first time around.
Many thanks for your very insightful and interesting comments.
Hope you are well and still writing.
Hugh
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Don’t remember this from the first time around. Makes me feel like I missed out as a young guy.
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Thanks Doug for taking a look.
I don’t really know what I missed throughout those years as I am now at the age where I forget and during those years, for other reasons, I couldn’t remember!
All the very best my friend.
Hugh
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Quite the dens of hedonism, wildly told tale. The bars round where I grew up were violent like these, but no sex going on within. Or maybe I just missed out. Very clear descriptions and narrations re: the four bars and their inhabitants, I feel kinda sorry for the bald guy. But likely he was happy.
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Hi Harrison,
Thanks so much for your comments.
I got a kick out of seeing this again and re-visiting those times.
All the very best my friend.
Hugh
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