Raving Mad

I had to force myself to get ready to go out last night when all I really wanted to do was crawl under the duvet with a book and some cocoa. It wasn't anything exciting, just helping out behind the bar at the football club, something I do once every couple of months or so and it seemed to offer a change from a usual Friday night.

I had no idea what was on but I didn't give it any thought. There's never much variation, a Tribute Band, a Wedding Do ( never very upmarket as you can imagine but they usually lay on a decent finger buffet), a cheeky Elvis impersonator who always makes me laugh despite myself and the clientele are invariably an assortment of local yokels, many of whom look unnervingly similar to one another.

I was vaguely aware of large groups of chavs/trevs wandering about the streets but that's not particularly unusual when you get down into the village. I became slightly more alarmed as their number increased the closer I got to the sports club. It was all I could do to avoid scratching the paintwork on my new acquisition, there was more fake gold knuckle rings and chains in the car park than a souk. My instinct was to turn around and drive straight home but my strong work ethic, and the fact that the Manageress had spotted me and was waving frantically from inside, made me go in.

Words cannot begin to describe the horror of what I found. I know YouTube is wearing a bit thin but take a look at this very brief clip to see for yourself. The volume has been reduced to save awakening the recently deceased.

Warning: flashing lights, not recommended for people with light-sensitivy, epilepsy or any taste whatsoever.



You get quite used to it after the first 4 hours or so. I even found myself nodding my head in time to the music by the end of the night. On the doorframe. Rocking back and forth. Moaning somewhat. Trying very very hard not to cry.