The sparkling champagne
Saw this remarkable phenomena at last. About
eight gangster types walk into the club. Only the trained bouncer eye sees the
unfit fat amongst the swagger. Still young men, but the nights of booze,
staying up, eating unhealthy food has made them but shadows of their former
real selves. The young men know the bouncers, giving them the rap of authority
amongst the ladies, although sadly none seem to accompany them.
The club unwittingly comes to a standstill to
allow that much of testosterone through. Mangers, Assistant Managers, Head
Waiter, Waiters hustle around the young men guiding, no floating them towards
the VIP tables. High fives and all that and they prepare for the nights
drinking. Colombo’s whisky of the rich and famous, Johnnie Walker Black Label
is served in a full bottle, no two for effect.
Almost floating on its own a bright white light
winds it way from the bar, through the dance floor to the VIP table. It’s a
bottle of champagne in a big glass ice bucket, with champagne glasses, ice, and
a luminous light from its bottom. Attached on top is a sparkler – an actual
firework, and its lit! The testosterone level becomes almost unbearable. The
waiters make several trips to and from the bar with these missiles of
bubbliness.
The level on the black labels drop alarmingly,
even for eight young men. They are replenished not soon after. The night is
pumping. The lone young girl completely transfixed by whatever club drug she
took dances entrancingly by the DJ booth. One look at the two DJ’s and you know
they’re flying high too. Everyone in the club’s rocking and you think the
Ministry of Sound ecstasy era never died.
Suddenly there seems to be a fight by the VIP
table. The house lights for that section come on. You stomach clenches and bile
rises to your throat as you see that one of the young men have vomited all over
the black VIP leather couch. What strikes you the most is that the young men
standing there seem unrepentant about it.
Only then do you realise that era’s have passed.
You’re not in your twenties, or even thirties no more.
Sparkling champagne for sparkling nights.
I actually got one of the bouncers to stand in
front of me while I chilled out leaning on the big club air conditioner next to
the DJ booth to keep myself cool. The
bouncers presence helped me observe all this closely. Especially as the night
soured for the young lads and fights broke out amongst them. With those testosterone levels I wasn’t
surprised. The amount of alcohol that was consumed by these young men unfortunately
added a bit of hilarity to the events.
I
finished my partying at about 6am the next day with a hearty breakfast of three
egg roti’s, half a roast chicken and onion sambol from Pila. All washed down
with fresh lime juice. Took a hot bath when home, drank a litre of water,
switched A/C on high and got some rest to wake up nice in time for lunch. Rice
and curry, of course.
Even
the thoughts of the young men still vomiting their nights debauchery out did
not manage to break me good cheer.
