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‘One Night in Croydon’
( A late 90’s tale of a proper night out)
By Dj Landan Time
Let’s have mate! Cried one of my friend’s when Andrew suggested heading out of north London for a proper night out, this being a journey over to south of the river for some banging upfront Garage & House, to an event at the well talked about club ‘The Blue Orchid’
Where is it asked Robbie? ‘Croydon! Replied Andrew,
’ I ain’t fucking going to Croydon! The rats roam around with flick knifes fucking dangerous manor bruv, count me out, and rather go to Leicester square with the tourists or to The Gas Club to lose 2 stone!’
‘The birds mate, fit fucking birds!’ Tom voiced to Robbie, ‘Have you seen the podium dancers? Fit as fuck , jumping around with their tits and flange out in your face!’.
‘You got more chance with Dot Cotton’s flange in your face than one of these dancers!’
Landan voiced to Tom ‘Yeah yeah whatever! Let’s put it to a vote’ Tom said whilst knocking back a bottle of 20/20, Leicester square or Croydon?
It was decided, we were going to Croydon to the Blue Orchid! Fuck the rats with flick knife’s & unlimited dangers, there was some proper line up this night and that seemed to outweigh all the dangers. And just maybe Tom’s dream could end up becoming a reality with one of the fit podiums dancers flange & tits in his face that we would all surely talk about for the weeks to come.
We jumped into the car, all six of us, driving as fast as we could, with the sound of the heartless crews latest mix tape in the background, hyping everyone to the limit, the stories began to fill the air with excitement, the tales of the quality of birds, Dj’s & Mc’s and the cheap drinks offer’s that made the journey seem as quick as could be.
Once we arrived at the club, we were met by a ridiculous queue that went on and on, with the bouncers the size of giants, long dark trench coats, arms the size of trees & heads as big as a tigers! Steroids were definitely more potent back in the 90’s, I mean these bouncers were the size of a 4x4 Jeep and must have shitted breeze blocks for breakfast.
As we passed the main entrance, the odd sentence became audible from the bouncers ‘Now Fuck off!’ I tell you one more time you’re not getting in tonight, you will be eating out a fucking straw any minute now’ I wanted to stop and say something but though the girl only had herself to blame, I mean he did say no and a few times to her, and I was being no hero tonight.
‘Right lads no fucking around, these bouncers are not messing around, keep out of trouble, we are out the manor, and I don t fancy eating out of a straw anytime soon’ Robbie said to the group.
‘We need to jump in with some girls, otherwise we are not getting in’ Tom said. We always left this task to Tom, such a smooth talker; I mean he could honestly charm the knickers of a nun. Within minutes, Tom got the approval from a group of girls from Bromley.
Once we eventually got to the front of entrance, we were immediately stopped at the brass pillars & the red rope of judgment, suddenly face to face with the entourage of bouncers looking at us up and down, all with the most intimidating glares imaginable. Then up stepped the doppelganger of the undertaker from WWF, and grunted’ Show us your ID’, Whilst keeping eye contact with the whole group, transmitting thoughts that were piercing right into our minds ‘Any fucking trouble tonight lads you will all get the fucking treatment out the back exit, understood’ We all gave the look back to the bouncer like Yep we understand, best behavior, no need to worry!
The bouncer parted the rope once he was satisfied with our ID’s. At that moment he was our God who had just opened the gates to heaven. ‘Cheers mate’ ‘Nice one’ we were in! the sense of relief, the excitement to come, the faint sound of a pulsing kick in the distance, as we all started to eagerly off load our Ralph, Burberry & Stone Island jackets at the cloak room, this quicker than a group of old age pensioner’s riffling through items in a jumble sale, the smell of cigarette smoke blended in with the latest lynx sprays, aftershaves and perfume of the time, then came this wall of smell that hit us all straight away, as we entered the main doors into the club, just like the one you would find in a greasy spoon café, ‘Look a fucking restaurant in the club, buzzing, this place is the nuts!’ Robbie said, ‘It’s a takeaway’ you mug, chips & burgers, claimed Landan ‘Fuck this I m off to get a drink and pull some birds losers! Landan said with venom and headed off towards the direction of the bar with the rest of the group following.
As we all started to take in the surroundings at the bar, we could see the curling stairs that went up to a balcony, the carpet around the club that could only be described as something you would see on an old episode of a time forgotten 70’s comedy, aired repeatedly on UKTV gold, our eyes darting all over the place capturing a ton of podium dancers dancing in the distance to the sound of bass, with the booming tones of the Mc rolling over the beats, hyping up the packed crowd to a frenzy. We were in our element! We made it, over come with joy at all the obstacles’ that were in our way.
Tom then bough the girls from Bromley their promised round for pretending to be with us, who headed off into the night never to been seen again. Robbie went to check out the so called restaurant to find out if they were in fact selling just chips & burgers, hoping that he could wipe the smug look of Landan’s face, He then returned to the bar five minutes later with a portion chips! As we started to down cheap booze and smoke for England, our clouds of cigarette smoke already adding to the over used smoke machine inside the club making it hard to see more than a foot away.
We entered the dance floor after a few beers of encouragement, searching and hoping to find the fittest birds to pull. The next Dj Came on, I missed the introduction, I was busy chatting to a chick from Downham, ‘Fucking wicked in ere’ ain t it! Who ya with?’ As we started to talk more, the music became loud & intense, the sound of the 808 kick drum piercing my ear drums, thinking in the morning my ears will be buzzing more than a broken fridge, but fuck it, who cares! At least it will drown out the shit banter at work.
As I danced closer to the Dj box, I could see the Dj covered in sweat, dripping like an ice sculpture you get at those fancy parties, I m over thinking at this point, the Dj is going to just melt away into a puddle on the ground before long, who the fuck is going to Dj then? I mean the Dj was killing it, No mc ing, just pure unadulterated House music, no one in the club wanted it to stop, one tune after another, seamlessly mixed to perfection. Then a while later a random Mc came over the speakers introducing the next Dj, just as the last tune from the current Dj came to a close. I was like who the fuck was that on the decks?
I looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse, but to no avail, the place was too packed, then out of now where the crowd was parting quicker than the red sea, I could see a husk of a man carrying two big record boxes, and sweating like he had just done 12 rounds with Mike Tyson, he then came forward towards our group and stopped and looked at us all. ‘You ll do’ he said to me. ‘Mate I need a favor, I can trust you, can you look after my records?’ I was like sure, no problem, and I began to say how much I loved the set, ‘Where are you going? I asked, and you sure you can trust me? ‘Yeah mate, I need to see the man in charge to collect my money, I sort you out some beers, back in five minutes’
He then left me, on the dance floor with two big metal boxes of records covered in an assortment of stickers from past record shops and raves, trusting me to guard these with my life. Robbie came up to me and said, ‘What’s happening?’ He just left you with his records? I was like yeah, fuck now’s why, never met the guy! We all then started to dance around the boxes of records, like the girls did with their handbags, When out of now where Tom came back and joined the group, promoting the biggest smile on his face, he had dropped a few E’s and was right of his tits. ‘I m in love’ I have pulled he exclaimed! ‘Calm down son, all good, where is she then? ‘Just went to the toilet she will be back. Now when Tom gets of his face it could mean one of two things he has pulled an absolute stunner or the complete opposite. Tom had this strange problem when he was on pills, he went into what I can only say was ‘Shallow Hal mode’ you know the film, the one where he sees women that are hot but in reality they are not.
We waited with anticipation, then came this girl, who I can only describe as one of the biggest girls I have ever encountered, she was 6,8 tall, as wide as a garden shed and must have weight easily 20 stone, but in all fairness she came with the face of an angel. Some of the lads had to turn away to make sure the laughing could not be seen or heard. Now Tom was not the tallest of lads, and he and his new found love were getting intimate but Tom could not reach the girl for a kiss, he turned round and said ‘Landan give me one of those boxes, come on bro, I m getting my oats’ ‘I was like, come on mate, this Dj is trusting me to look after his boxes, how’s it going to look if you’re using one to get your shit on? ‘Come on bro I d do it for you’ by this time, the Dj was away for around 30 minutes, I was thinking is he coming back? ‘’Ah fuck it, go on then, but be quick’ in my mind I m thinking just wait until tomorrow, we all got enough lines to drop on you for the rest of your life sonny. Up jumps Tom onto one of the record boxes and starts to make out with the girl.
As I though, at this time Tom was going for it like a car wash in over drive, when the Dj came back towards me, carrying a few bottles of beer.
The Dj had changed, not out of his clothes I mean, the Dj was now proper buzzing of his face, and he passed me a few beers. ‘Nice one mate’ knew I could trust you, whilst I was trying to push Tom of one of his boxes without him noticing. ‘Sorry bro, my mates of his nut and wanted to kiss that bird, trying to get this across to the Dj, whilst he was throwing shapes and dancing like a mad man. ‘No worries fella, always willing to help out a lad to get his groove on, As long as she does not fall on the box, she’s a bit of big bird!, I need to shoot off in five minutes, got a gig over west London’ I somehow managed to get Tom down from the box, it was like pulling a plunger from a blocked drain, ‘Times up Tom, Dj’s heading off for another gig’ The Dj then picked up his record boxes and asked my name. ‘Landan’ I replied. ‘Nice one Landan for looking after my records,’ I then asked his name so I could check him out in the future and see him play again. He told me his name was Brandon Block. In my mind I was like never heard of him, but though boy he could Dj like no other that I had heard at that time and would definitely be keeping a look out for him in the future.
Brandon then left the group and headed out leaving us to enjoy the rest of the evening, to the sounds of the Dj’s & Mc’s with Tom going off with giant haystacks to find a free sofa to finish off what he thought was the woman of his dreams.