I get confused easily. I think I analyse things too much. People who point at their wrist when they ask for the time, for example. Why do they do that? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?
Clubland can be a very confusing place too. It's the punters, mostly, who throw me. Let's face it, when no one can remember who they are or why they're there, it's little wonder that odd situations crop up.
Last weekend, for example, I was at a party at some studios round the back of Elephant & Castle shopping centre. At the party was a group of five blokes who must have been at least 60 years old. But they weren't standing around sipping pints. They were properly going for it on the dancefloor. It wasn't so much hip, as hip replacement.
But generally clubland confusion is just plain funny and it's always at the nights with the craziest promoters and the wildest punters. Take Back To Basics' Dave Beer, for example. I've seen him grab a broom and start sweeping up at 5am while urging punters to "keep it tidy". You can see Dave and the Basics gang at SeOne tomorrow for Just The One vs Back To Basics.
Sunday silliness is best experienced at the T Bar's Dig Your Own Rave where I recently found myself chatting to a bloke wearing a horse's head. The barman beat me to the obvious gag by saying: "Mate, it's great in here. Why the long face?" Long may confusion reign.
clubland@thelondonlite.co.uk
