I went to a party the other night, held by the same group that hosted the last party I went to. It’s not really a party as such, I mean there’s no cocktail onions on toothpicks or anything like that. I suppose you could call it a dance party, but that elicits images of a whooping nightclub going OFF, and this was nothing like that. A gathering doesn’t work either, as that just as well describe a bus shelter, but I admit I’ve been to some pretty out there bus shelters, especially in my uni days – boy, I knew how to catch public transport back then! The last Woof Club I went to would safely be a dance party, as there was whooping, and also a smoke machine and mirror ball – two vital ingredients for a successful dance party. This one, however, was a quiet affair, held in a small downstairs bar. Look, why don’t we, for arguments sake, call this thing a Party with a capital P to show it was more than a do but not as big as a rave? Actually, I’ll tell you what, the Party’s name was Hammer, so let’s just call it that…
I went to Hammer the other night. Had a bit of a boogie. Met some old friends and made a new one. Not a big night but I enjoyed myself.
One thing did happen, though, when I arrived. As the bouncer Lee was taking my money she warned, “I hope you’re not on the G again tonight.”
I said, “Pardon?”
She said, “Like last time. I hope we’re not going to have a repeat of last time when you were on G.”
I had to think about this. “Are you referring to G the drug?” G – short for GHB (gamma hydroxybutyric acid); also known, amongst other things, as Liquid Ecstasy and Grievous Bodily Harm – is a liquid stimulant that is so volatile in strength and mix there is only a very small leeway between euphoria and death. It’s usually purchased in those fish-shaped soy sauce containers. I think it’s blue, but that could just be food colouring. It’s not – I repeat – not a nice thing.
Lee the Bouncer said, “Yeah the drug. I don’t want another scene like that.”
I was a little confused. “I’ve never had G or know what it even looks like,” which is true; I only know about the fish container thing from awareness campaigns, “and I went home at 3.30.”
She glanced at me. “Well, it was someone who looks just like you then.” On this I thought: There’s someone out there who looks like me? The poor bastard.
Lee paused for a moment then said, “Hang on. Now that I think about it, he looks nothing like you. You have a good night,” and with that she stamped my arm and moved on to the person behind. So I went in thinking: Great, a reputation! But for once I’d rather have remained in the candle-lit comfort of Obscurity.
Anyway, I had a good time.