Saturday, 26 March 2011

Give me the moonight


Some years ago, in circumstances that are too convoluted to go into here, J. and I found ourselves in a St Raphaël nightclub with, among others, some Charlton Athletic supporters.

Although very dark inside, we could just about make out a large central dance area with smaller alcoves round the outside, separated from each other by what appeared to be glass screens. I suppose there were about 15 of us in the group. Some kind of mermaid-hostess suggested we might like a to buy a bottle of vodka at about £500. This seemed a bit steep, even divided between 15, particularly as one of the 15 was a notorious drouth* and would probably want to share it with the hostess and her merpals.

It was possibly at this moment that I quietly drew J.'s attention to the dim outline of a bald-headed old git in the neighbouring alcove, saying perhaps we didn't need to feel embarrassed about being the only people of our generation in the place if they let mildewed old codgers like that bloke in. I then realised that the glass screens were in fact mirrors. In the gloom I was looking at myself. We left unobtrusively.

We haven't been near a nightclub since. We're planning to go to Spain before long. It's a road we've often travelled. In a tiny village well south of the frontier called Tor there's a sign saying 'Bar Nit', I assume the Catalan for nightclub. In a monstrously unlovely place called La Jonquera there are immense flashing signs advertising a nightclub, maybe more of a giant bordello, called Moonight. No, I haven't mis-spelled it. Moonight.

I don't think we'll be stopping at either.

*Drouth: Scots word for drought, thus figuratively a boozer.

17 comments:

Rosie said...

Don't stop. Don't even open the car windows. Lock the doors. Avoid people pretending to be dead at the side of the road or in the middle of it. Do not listen to the policemen. Have a nice trip.

Z said...

We don't have a nightclub but Yagnub's unfortunately-named sandwich bar was called Get Stuffed. It didn't last long.

Christopher said...

Rosie, thank you. I hope you're not quoting from experience?

Z: Yes, very unfortunate. And I don't expect they even tried olives or aubergines?

Dave said...

I (my readers will be surprised to learn*) have never been in a nightclub.


*On reflection, they probably won't be.

Christopher said...

'On reflection': this is what started a complete and timely overhaul of my self-assessment, Dave.

Vicus Scurra said...

I have never been in a night club either. I must be Dave.

Cynthia said...

I have never been in a nightclub either -- perhaps Dave, Vicus, and I should get together and remedy this gap in our lives before it is too late.

Tim Footman said...

I have been in a Bar Nit. After the vigorous combing and the application of the bug-killing goo, I didn't feel much like dancing.

Sarah said...

Old codgers

Christopher said...

I'm more than pleased to offer Lydian Airspace as a forum and helpline for all those who suffer from nocturnal problems, club feet, identity crises, infestations, etc. Please feel free to tell me all.

Olden but golden, Sah.

Rog said...

On reflection Bar Nit was missing. I suggest a syrup.

letouttoplay said...

I have been to a night club and I plan not to do it again. I think I was too old to appreciate the experience properly.
(Incidentally, I guessed correctly that you were the lad with a cheeky grin, sitting very uprightly between two people obviously placed to stop you getting into mischief. But I know it's a bit late to say so now)

Spadoman said...

First of all, I need a definition between a nightclub and a bar. We used to go out to bars, (taverns), and listen to music and drink beer or booze with mixers.
Most of the time, we followed bands that were playing Blues, Rock and Roll, R & B or Reggae. I never thought of them as nightclubs. I guess they were. Same stuff goes on, but I always pictured the nightclub as the place where all the young hip worldly people go. We just went for the music.
Still listen to the old stuff on my MP3 or the Sirius radio in the car most of the time.

Peace

Christopher said...

Quite right, Rog. Golden olden syrup.

Mig: Never mind. Thank you for even casting eyes upon it. There'll be another chance next year.

Spadoman: Booze and music, naturally, maybe a little gambling, but the main difference, as the Moonight billboards state, is chicas.

Sarah said...

Chicas?.....Butt? !

Christopher said...

Sah, I do admire your firm grasp of fundamentals, but I sometimes feel you could express yourself more economically.

Sarah said...

You didn't answer the question though