The ticket situation

The whole thing started off badly as we ordered our tickets through clubtickets.com. I bought 3 early bird tickets and when they hadn’t arrived by the Monday I started to worry. So I emailed and I called them and they said they ‘should’ be posted out in the next couple of days. The word should is never reassuring, especially a few days before an event! So we waited and I called them again and I noticed that people could now get a ticket free if they bought 3. So I asked both clubtickets and Hed Kandi if I could have a free one too given that I had bought 3 and that I had had to keep interrupting normal life to chase my tickets and that I shouldn’t be penalised for actually being organised. Of course I never got a reply from either!! Unbelievably, after much hairpulling, on the Saturday we got a note through the door from the post office saying we had to collect some mail which had no postage on it. We dashed down just in time and paid £1.27 postage (on top of the £1.50 already paid) for the tickets! Ticketmaster you have all of my future business!

To the club

Now I loved the venue, great sound system, friendly, attentive and well trained staff. The music was just fantastic, tune after tune of my head tingling favourites. However, it wasn’t the crowd that I expected given that it was Back to Love. Being hassled (or should I say handled) on the dance floor by some bloke who at one point lay on his back on the dance floor thrusting his hips into the air just isn’t what I call clubbing. Then as the night progressed it just got worse as I watched everyone getting so drunk that they couldn’t dance upright and continuously fell on you, driving pointed heels into your feet, smacking your arms with their sparkly handbags and ensuring you got a mouthful of their chemically enhanced hair with the constant flicking that ensued. Ever heard of ‘sorry’? This, intermingled with my attempts at avoiding thrust boy’s groping hands wasn’t conducive to dancing to the fantastic old tunes that were blasting out.

After the Gucci asteroid storm came the finale...whilst waiting at the bar for a g&t I noticed my group pointing at the guy next to me who was paying for a drink. I glanced across at the people next to him on the other side and they looked horrified. This guy was paying for his drink with one hand and holding something else in his other. Then from the opening of his shirt erupted this gush of liquid, spraying against the bar front and splashing onto his shoes and trousers! Oh yes he was...and it’s not a dark club...and the toilets were in abundance, not busy and were pristine. You have to wonder how many other clubs he has done that in. Given wee boy, thrust boy, and people pinball on the dancefloor we decided to leave at 3. We then walked outside into a brawl with police pulling people apart, further along a massive queue of drunken clones and not a taxi in sight. 2 night buses and a long walk in the rain later we arrived home. We only live round the corner!

On a positive note the stage shows were great, the dancers kept the crowd going/flailing, the girl on sax and guy on drums were excellent AND Barbara Tucker you rock! Don’t know what happened to Byron Stingily, maybe he came on earlier or after we left...or perhaps, given the crowd, he wasn’t feeling mighty real!