My First Time Clubbing

Posted: August 9, 2011 in Chawn, One More For Love


I’m on a stag. At a bar. With a WKD. We’re in Reflex for Gibson’s stag, and this is my first time clubbing. Apparently there’s a first time for everything, but if there is, then that includes bad things too, and I never want to get chased by every hot meal I’ve ever turned down in a restaurant.


I’ve been to clubs before. Drama Club. The Boys Brigade. The Edge! The king of clubs! But this is different. There’s not even any ditch wrestling. There’s just dancing! A whole lot of dancing.


Dancing with motive.


People are hunting, and tonight’s the transfer window. Girls are showing themselves off, pretty much wearing cling film. I find it strange, advertising themselves intimately to all randoms. It’d be like me tweeting my medical history or every freaky dream I’ve ever had. They must be depressed. Rejected. Ruined. Female Eric Djemba-Djembas.


I am distracted.


Because three girls have walked upstairs. Girls of quality. Girls in clothes.


I sigh.


“You alright, Dan?”


Savage has slid over; current stud of the night after accidentally winning a hug from a bloke on Hurst Street. Apparently Savage looks like a guy off Emmerdale. And apparently tonight is Gay Pride. And apparently Hurst Street is particularly proud.


“Yeah. Just looking at those Three Girls.”


Savage looks over. He’s married, and a man of bountiful wisdom.


“Why don’t you go over and dance with them?”


I look at Savage. Poor, naïve Savage. He does not understand.


“Nah. It’d never happen.”


He smiles.


“Why not?”


“Well, you know. I mean how likely is it that anything’s really gonna happen? They’re fit as anything, but they could be into anything! They might even watch Emmerdale.”         


Savage frowns.


I notice my mistake.


I decide to pretend not to have noticed my mistake.


I swig my WKD and smile.


He doesn’t buy it.


“Well… when you do meet someone Dan, are you actually going to be able to dance with them?”


“Yeah! Of course Savage! I love dancing! I’ve already danced quite a bit tonight!”


“Yeah, you have!”


I smile. For Savage has admitted defeat.


“You danced with Gibson and Sneaky Pete! I’m talking about dancing with hot girls!”


Eeesh. Dancing with hot girls. The final frontier.


“This is just a chance for you to practice, Dan. And besides, what have you got to lose?”


I ponder his words for a few seconds. Savage smiles. He can see his wisdom burrowing into my brain. It makes a decision. And tells my eye.


I look him straight in his.





It is 10 minutes later, and I have been pondering.


“So I could just go up to them and lay it all out there. Say something like ‘Please can I dance around the three of you to get some practice dancing with hot girls?’”


Big Boots stares at me.


“Go for it, Dan. What have you got to lose?”


I look over at the Three Girls. Like I’ve been doing for the last 10 minutes. Watching them do that dancing-with-mates thing that I am considering forsaking. I can do that dance! But with-a-hot-girl dancing? Eeesh. I could never do that. But then, this is just a chance to practice. To embrace my fear! I’ll never see these girls again, and if I can fail The Worm twice onstage in front of a crowd of Canadians, surely I can embarrass myself in front of Three Girls.


I smile. As confidence rises within me.


I stand up. I am…!




I sit down. And breathe. The Three Girls are all hot, but one’s in a blue dress. And blue is the best kind. She’s the one my eyes have been chasing and the one I really want to dance with.


I teeter on the edge of manliness.


I look over at BlueGirl. And breathe.


And fall.


“Hi! This may be a strange question, but I could do with some practice dancing with hot girls, please could I dance with you three for a bit?”


BlueGirl smiles, and points to her mate; who grabs me, and swings me into an embarrassing waltz.


Oh no!


I am Dr Turk getting eaten by a massive tentacle-monster. Which is probably a bit harsh on the hot blonde letting me tread on her feet. World Renowned (but not for his cooking skills) Chef Dave spots my antics and alerts the gang. They’re excited, but a step behind Big Boots, who knows that the hatches are open, and is speaking in the words of his generation.


To BlueGirl.


Oh no!


I fume, and get muddled up trying to do a 3/4 dance to a 4/4 song, as Big Boots asks Blue Cantrell to dance. She agrees, and I sigh. My hot blonde tutor whispers into my ear, which I am surprisingly content with.


“Are you alright?”


“Yeah, I’m… uh… not very good at this dancing.”


She smiles.


“Well, then this is just good practice!”


I smile.


And dance with a hot girl.




  1. Andrew Wan says:

    Ah well, it could have been worse, she could have been a “true blue” and then you would have been disappointed in the long run.

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