Waiting to get down
Want to ditch your big machine
Somewhere in this town?
Now in the park and lock garage
You'll find the proper place
Just follow all the written rules
You'll fit into the space.
Pull up to the bumper baby
In your big black limousine
Pull up to my bumper baby
Drive it in between..''
Aah the subtle sweet sounds of Jones, Miss Grace Jones harassed the bass speakers and the crowd in the Camden club.
It was relentless, hard and made you sweat when you really wanted to go for it.
Speaking of 'going for it'...what is it about folk partial to copping off, failing to book a room and going for it in the club, literally?
''Nay Deckspinner, you lie'' I hear you cry. NOPE, this is fact.
Let me break it down for you and put it together if i may.
It's the weekend and you feel you wanna party - check!
Hang out with your friends and boogie - check!
You've got some new threads that are ready to be launched - check!
You may have got your hair done(boy/girl optional) - check!
Shoes? Yep, you may have got those Manolos or those Sweeneys (delete where applicable) - check!
Call up the friendly fam and you're on way to the club of choice, you love the nighttime, your peoples are nice, the music's nice...you...feel...nice - CHECK!
So, at what point of the evening do you notice the girl with the huge set of Chernobyls, backside like Kim Kardashian in killer heels or man in slick Boateng suit, Jeffrey W shoes with slick patter(delete where applicable) and think to yourself..I wanna get sexed up with him/her - In here?
Nothing wrong with chirpsing (chatting up folk) - we've all done it, but we don't think to ourselves - ''Yeah, I'm gonna tap that - in here''
Case 1, your Honour..
Proceed, Deckspinner, proceed.
I love music, you know that.
I love people, you know that,too.
But that doesn't mean I love to see people playing 'hide the salami' or listen to someone re-enacting Salt 'n' Pepa's Push It, when i go for a pee in a public place.
Like I said earlier, a club in Camden, nice venue, a little like the Sugar Shack(Ernie Barnes), bodies bumping to the music (remember i said bumping, not banging).
We're playing MFSB - Mysteries of the World(fat choon, no question) and Tony takes over from me.
I need a drink but i need to pee first. I make my way through the crowd and by the time I've opened the men's door, I can already hear the screeching.
I couldn't quite tell if my eyes were stinging from the sweat from my brow or the spectacle in front of me.
The cubicle door is open(they couldn't be bothered to close it), the guy's legs are inches off the floor with his trousers and soiled baggies around his ankles(sorry, I've got to call it as i see it)
The lady....(a very tenuous link, I know) well she's riding Mr Soiled Baggy like he's the last train to Upminster.
She's built like a brick out-house and every time she came down on Mr Soiled Baggy, he screeched..Yaaay, Raaarrrgh, Yeeeeah, Yaaaayaaah...punctuated by her confirmation of how she was enjoying proceedings too.
Anyway I believe Brick House & Mr Soiled Baggy came before they were asked to skid mark out of there.
Case 2, if it pleases the Court?
We're actually quite queasy now, Deckspinner but please proceed.
This one is from waaay back in the day..to my roots(well, one of them)
Some of you may remember these crappy clubs that opened back then when the closest thing you got to r'n'b was R Kelly's Vibe or Luther Vandross' Never Too Much which is okay but when they cut them right down and you never heard them again for the rest of the night, you felt like you wanted to hurt someone so they could understand and feel your pain too..lol
Anyway, we'd got a weekly stint in this club(they'd given us Mondays, as the weekend was saved for drink all you can drink-fight someone-throw up your kebab-and get a cab home-nights) but this particular night was a Saturday.
We're hanging out, chatting up the ladies, tapping our feet to crap music and trying to stop yawning, when Skip tugs my arm.
''What is it?, I told you it was a waste of time coming here, we flaming work here, too''
''Yeah, but not tonight,the drinks and food is free and that brunette looks like she wants to eat you whole, ain't that right?'' Skip replied.
''Drink and food okay, fair enough, but that brunette looks like she ate her neighbours, I ain't riding shotgun with you on this one''
''Cool, no worries, I'll handle her and the friend''
We both burst out laughing and stopped at the same time as our eyes were drawn simultaneously to some movement behind one of the alcove drapes.
We snuck over, Skip pulled the drape back slightly and raised his eyebrows.
Meanwhile I'm trying to get a view of what he's seen.
Get ready.
The slurping noises were louder now as the bar girl was on her knees and introducing herself to someone we didn't recognise as her regular boyfriend.
The guy's eyes widened as he saw us and was about to pull the bar girl's head back to stop.
Skip made a warning finger and put it to his own lips.
The now distressed fella was now fighting the good fight from the eventual delivery of his cargo whilst the bar girl kept the tempo.
Skip ran to the DJ and they came back with a suitable crowd of eager viewers.
Bar girl was oblivious to what was going on behind her right up until Distressed fella could hold back no longer.
When the DJ started counting back from ten, it seemed like everyone had joined in.
Distressed Fella released his heavy load to the satisfaction of Bar girl who suddenly realised she had a non-paying audience.
By then it was too late.
Distressed fella ran from the club leaving a trail like a snail, while Bar girl didn't even hang around for her coat.
We never did see her again. Shame really, cause she could really pull a pint.
©2008 Dj Ed Nice
The names, places and drapes have been changed to protect the downright sticky-icky.
