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lprovenSo, last night, I went clubbing for the first time in ages. I can't remember, maybe nearly a year. I think the last time I went to B Movie - or any goth club, barring Infest in August - was when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ickle_tayto was last over, which was quite a while ago. February?
But it was The Last Ever B Movie, so I felt I had to. Although that club has a lot of bad or unpleasant memories attached to it for me, it also has some very good ones, and I've had a lot of good times there.
But I was dreading it. Mainly for fear of running into K&M, a thought which literally makes my stomach churn with dread even now. I couldn't spur myself into action until quite late - I got there about 10:30 or 11pm. I missed a few people - I just sawdwagon as she was leaving and I'm told I missed flickgc by ten minutes or so.
It wasn't like the old days. When B Movie started, it moved around pubs a lot - there was a different venue every month for a while. This one was not good. Canal 125 is a converted private house about 15min walk up Caledonian Road from King's Cross, maybe more - far enough to be off-putting. The downstairs bar was crowded, but not part of the club - it was an open public bar, selling the usual overpriced noxious fizzy p*ss. Up a cramped flight of stairs was the cloakroom hatch, right next to which was the admissions table, causing a permanent logjam.
(Best line of the night, from a chap I presume trying to help out a friend or partner or something: "large woman coming through, needs a pee, mind out!")
On the 1st floor, there was a bare-floored room, like an under-decorated living room, with an archway into a small hallway. There were some seats in here and a DJ booth playing - well, sort of 40s/50s big-band music. Not my preferred style. I spotted one Richard Cheese number going past, so hooray for Dick, but it was lost in a welter of non-ironic showtunes, which frankly bores me. Up an even narrower flight of stairs was an even smaller room with a big DJ desk and the main dancefloor, and a tiny bar selling spirits and cocktails. This room was absurdly crowded all night, as far as I can tell, and due to small size, sealed windows and lots of people, it was a noisy sweaty hellhole in which it was near-impossible to talk. (Sorry,julietk, but I couldn't really hear you.)
(Which reminds me of Infest: because, you see, there's another downside to the smoking ban I'd not previously thought of, especially with reference to goth events. See, they tend to be full of people wearing impractical gladrags - latex, PVC, stuff like that. And possibly with elaborate and expensive "hair"-styles that they can't wash. So after an evening of energetic dancing in a hot confined space with poor ventilation, it can get... redolent. Frankly, some of the people there pong. It's really not pleasant. At least when the air was full of the niff of tobacco smoke, something I've learned not to notice, you couldn't smell the BO, but I can't filter out or ignore the smell of stale sweat and frankly I don't want to be exposed to it so much that I learn to. It was Not Pleasant. Not as bad as Infest, where some of them had been bopping for 3 straight days by the end and reeked, but still, not good.)
I saw a fair few old mates, some of whom I seldom see now. I didn't see a lot of people I expected to, though; the crowd was considerably down on even a year ago. Mind you, most of them are fatter than they used to be, so the net weight is probably similar.
I didn't recognise a lot of the music I heard, and little of it was the sort that compels me to throw myself onto a dancefloor - again, unusual for B Movie. But then, there wasn't really any spare space on the dancefloor to throw onesself, nor even sidle, into.
I had a few drinks (which were awful). I saw a good few people, which was pleasant. I even got bought a drink by a random girlie, called Liz, who is a head teacher somewhere. Very nice of her. She seemed to, ah, like me quite a lot, which is always good for the old ego. Not a patch on ourandroctonus, though. A mate of mine from the Acorn scene took the more direct approach of simply grabbing her arse, which, ah, seemed to work quite well for him, so I'll draw a discreet veil over that.
Made my way down to Trafalgar Square withseph_hazard, which was quite pleasant. Again we marvelled at how different are our perceptions of mutual acquaintances' body sizes. This caused even more mutual marvelment when we discovered that in at least one case we fancy the same person, which must be a first. As it happens, I know that dougs is rather taken with this young lady as well, in a purely theoretical sense, of course, so I can only assume that quiet desperation is making my standards rather looser than normal or something.
And home just before 5am. Watched Clueless, a fine movie; surfed; read; surfed some more; and finally slept at noon today. So I am more than a little spaced now. But overall, a disappointing night. At least I feel somewhat more that, now I'm an old pharte of 40 and too old and fat to go clubbing all the time, I'm not missing much. Sorry,s0b - but I think you did the right thing in ending it.
ickle_tayto was last over, which was quite a while ago. February?But it was The Last Ever B Movie, so I felt I had to. Although that club has a lot of bad or unpleasant memories attached to it for me, it also has some very good ones, and I've had a lot of good times there.
But I was dreading it. Mainly for fear of running into K&M, a thought which literally makes my stomach churn with dread even now. I couldn't spur myself into action until quite late - I got there about 10:30 or 11pm. I missed a few people - I just saw
dwagon as she was leaving and I'm told I missed flickgc by ten minutes or so.It wasn't like the old days. When B Movie started, it moved around pubs a lot - there was a different venue every month for a while. This one was not good. Canal 125 is a converted private house about 15min walk up Caledonian Road from King's Cross, maybe more - far enough to be off-putting. The downstairs bar was crowded, but not part of the club - it was an open public bar, selling the usual overpriced noxious fizzy p*ss. Up a cramped flight of stairs was the cloakroom hatch, right next to which was the admissions table, causing a permanent logjam.
(Best line of the night, from a chap I presume trying to help out a friend or partner or something: "large woman coming through, needs a pee, mind out!")
On the 1st floor, there was a bare-floored room, like an under-decorated living room, with an archway into a small hallway. There were some seats in here and a DJ booth playing - well, sort of 40s/50s big-band music. Not my preferred style. I spotted one Richard Cheese number going past, so hooray for Dick, but it was lost in a welter of non-ironic showtunes, which frankly bores me. Up an even narrower flight of stairs was an even smaller room with a big DJ desk and the main dancefloor, and a tiny bar selling spirits and cocktails. This room was absurdly crowded all night, as far as I can tell, and due to small size, sealed windows and lots of people, it was a noisy sweaty hellhole in which it was near-impossible to talk. (Sorry,
julietk, but I couldn't really hear you.)(Which reminds me of Infest: because, you see, there's another downside to the smoking ban I'd not previously thought of, especially with reference to goth events. See, they tend to be full of people wearing impractical gladrags - latex, PVC, stuff like that. And possibly with elaborate and expensive "hair"-styles that they can't wash. So after an evening of energetic dancing in a hot confined space with poor ventilation, it can get... redolent. Frankly, some of the people there pong. It's really not pleasant. At least when the air was full of the niff of tobacco smoke, something I've learned not to notice, you couldn't smell the BO, but I can't filter out or ignore the smell of stale sweat and frankly I don't want to be exposed to it so much that I learn to. It was Not Pleasant. Not as bad as Infest, where some of them had been bopping for 3 straight days by the end and reeked, but still, not good.)
I saw a fair few old mates, some of whom I seldom see now. I didn't see a lot of people I expected to, though; the crowd was considerably down on even a year ago. Mind you, most of them are fatter than they used to be, so the net weight is probably similar.
I didn't recognise a lot of the music I heard, and little of it was the sort that compels me to throw myself onto a dancefloor - again, unusual for B Movie. But then, there wasn't really any spare space on the dancefloor to throw onesself, nor even sidle, into.
I had a few drinks (which were awful). I saw a good few people, which was pleasant. I even got bought a drink by a random girlie, called Liz, who is a head teacher somewhere. Very nice of her. She seemed to, ah, like me quite a lot, which is always good for the old ego. Not a patch on our
androctonus, though. A mate of mine from the Acorn scene took the more direct approach of simply grabbing her arse, which, ah, seemed to work quite well for him, so I'll draw a discreet veil over that.Made my way down to Trafalgar Square with
seph_hazard, which was quite pleasant. Again we marvelled at how different are our perceptions of mutual acquaintances' body sizes. This caused even more mutual marvelment when we discovered that in at least one case we fancy the same person, which must be a first. As it happens, I know that dougs is rather taken with this young lady as well, in a purely theoretical sense, of course, so I can only assume that quiet desperation is making my standards rather looser than normal or something.And home just before 5am. Watched Clueless, a fine movie; surfed; read; surfed some more; and finally slept at noon today. So I am more than a little spaced now. But overall, a disappointing night. At least I feel somewhat more that, now I'm an old pharte of 40 and too old and fat to go clubbing all the time, I'm not missing much. Sorry,
s0b - but I think you did the right thing in ending it.
