Golden Memories: Nightclubs

Ah, Golden Mammaries (oops - where's that proof reader?). These would have to include a few nightclubs, the first of which we used to call the Pea House. It was historically a hippy joint (!), which had helped to launch a number of famous bands in the early 70's, including Yes, King Crimson and Wishbone Ash. By the late 70's, however, it was beginning to cave in under the fashionable weight of Punk Rock and Soul music. The owner's eyes changed from droopy and doped, to bingo balls with glittering dollar signs.

Yet there was still a transitional stage to enjoy and a remember well the sticky carpet, so impregnated with spilt beer that standing still would lead to permanent attachment. A lone flower child always came in early, sit on a corner post like Gandalf, and remain there for five hours, effectively impaled.

Behind some voluminous curtains, couples would work their way through the Kharma Sutra, interestingly highlighted one night when a Pink Floyd psychedelic video was projected on the undulating material.

Two gay girls had a venomous fight at the top of the stairs and fell twelve feet to the floor below without apparent injury. They then left arm in arm. A local lad sat on the cloakroom counter, propositioning girls as they left their loo. He was astounded at his lack of success, oblivious to the slug like green bogie which hung from his left nostril.

While the bouncers reused old tickets at the paydesk to augment their wages, the clientele swelled beyond the legal 600 to about 2500 one Sex Pistols night. It was impossible to get through the wall of heat and bodies.

I turned back and told the lonely lad about his bogie.