Finally. He arrived. But he was not what I expected.
When my friend told me that she was seeing the director of the company she works for, I expected Mr. Grey. Instead I shook hands with someone I can only describe as Mr. Beige. He was a short man who seemed to be in his early forties. He had thick-framed glasses which accented his receding hairline and magnified his worn-out hazelnut eyes. He handed each of us a white ticket and pointed us towards the main doors of the venue.
At the other end of the lobby we saw people handing their tickets to a woman and then walking through a set of doors. Each time the doors opened the room behind them sucked in a big gasp of air and spat out some very loud music. We couldn’t wait to get inside.
We’d joined the party late, so we made a dash for the bar before finding seats just as the show began. Blinding lights from the back wall of the stage lit up the entire crowd. Then with one swift movement of the conductor’s arm, the orchestra began.
Feeling like you’re at a rave in the 2000s surrounded by hundreds of people but listening to a LOUD orchestra, is a feeling that cannot be replicated. Getting straight to the mad part, this BIG band opened with a rendition of ‘Darude Sandstorm’. With everyone on their feet I’ve never wanted to dance more than when I was lost in the rhythm of the orchestra.
Led by the violins, we dived into the orchestral abyss ears first. Flashing lights broke through the darkness, momentarily illuminating two keyboard players. They intertwined rhythms and tiptoed around each other’s melodies. Percussion resonated with the floor of the auditorium just before I was uplifted by the singing of a saxophone. Then the sound of a xylophone trickled down the walls, offering a brief moment of serenity amidst all the craziness.
I was gripped so tightly by the symphony that I lost all track of time. Suddenly the rave lights went off and the house lights came on. The crowd dispersed and hundreds of intoxicated people staggered towards the single exit.
Me and my friends squeezed through the congested hallway before Uber-ing our way to the club in Elephant and Castle where my friend said the director would meet us half an hour later. We dance and drank until the director and his friends arrived. We all had a cigarette together outside while chatting, and then one of them asked whether we’d like to go up to the VIP area. Obviously, we all said yes. They gave me a fluorescent wristband and up we went.
We sat in this exclusive area for hours, knocking back drink after drink. I was curious to find out how much these drinks were costing, but one of the director’s friends confided in me that “the people you want to speak to are the ones that haven’t paid to be here”. In other words, if the promoters want you IN, you don’t have to fork OUT for anything – not even the £200 bottles of gin.
After the second bottle I went outside for a cigarette with one of the director’s mates. As we came back to the VIP area, another one of his friends stopped us and gave us both white wristbands. The wristband had ‘AAA’ written on it. “Where can I go with this?” I asked. They told us to go through the door at the back of the lounge and walk to the end of the corridor.
I opened another door and walked straight through. Suddenly I found myself at the front of the stage next to the DJ booth. I stood there for a minute processing what I was seeing. It was a sea of people. I’d never seen the club so busy and I’d never been at the front of the crowd before. There were about eight of us allowed out front. We had our own separate dance floor in front of everyone. Usually I’m quite an awkward guy but after two bottles of gin, two buckets of beer, rum and vodka I really didn’t mind dancing in front of a thousand heads.
It got to about half two in the morning, my balance and my vision were starting to go awry. Time to go home. If I’m being honest, I have no idea what happened for some time after this point. I just remember there was an Uber all the way to Canning Town.
The rest of this glamorous night was spent face down in the toilet.
