Hahahaha, same. Can't wait to drop that at an afters.
Regarding draconian clubs [note: this turned out pretty long, but oh well
], this reminds me of when me and my best mate went to a psy trance night at SE One in london. We'd just dropped three or four tabs of acid, intending to do a candyflip - and felt pretty unsettled after having to go through a full body scanner upon entry. People in the queue were generally a bit freaked out, and apparently there had been a recent stabbing.
So anyway, we were just on our way out for a cigarette, feeling a bit uneasy, when I asked my mate where the MDMA was and he casually said 'in my pocket'. I've always avoided keeping drugs where they can be found, so I asked him to pass it to me and stuck it in my wallet intending to stash it somewhere safer once back inside, up until the candyflip.
We walked outside to the smoking area and there was another door with a metal detector whereby we got herded through and they scanned our arm bands/tickets or something, before advising "right, you've got ten minutes to get back in", which obviously freaked us out further. It felt fucking WEIRD. We had a couple of cigarettes and chilled out a bit, listening to people talk about how it was like 1984 and this shouldn't happen in the psy trance scene etc etc, before suddenly feeling that tryptamine energy working its way through our bodies; although it came on pretty fast so we put it down to the cigarettes.
We went to go back in before our time expired, got scanned... and then got asked to step aside for a search. Fuck. So they took us to one side, asked us if we had anything, which we obviously denied, and proceeded to be searched. The last thing they checked was my fucking wallet. One of these two massive bouncers went "ooooh what's this, have you two been naughty boys?", before taking us into a tiny little room off to the side.
Of course, that had to be the moment when colours started swirling into the room and the walls/their faces began to take the form of LSD. The conversation went something like this.
Them: "right, so you two are good boys aren't you, and good boys wouldn't happen to have anything else on them would they, because they're good boys?"
Us: "No, that was all we had".
Them: "Well that's not very much is it, but of course that's right, because you two are good boys aren't you?"
US: "Errr... yes... we're good boys"
*Walls melt at ever increasing rate*
*Bouncers search us*
(they find nothing, including the ketamine and xanax stashed down my pants)
Them: "Right, okay, well you two are good boys and good boys don't do drugs do they, so pick up your shoes and go back inside because you're not going to do any more drugs are youse"?
Needless to say we were totally off our fucking dishes at this point, and kind of muttered some jumbled apologies before scuttering off as fast as we could and nearly falling over trying to get our shoes back on.
Had a wicked night, but no candyflips were to be had due to their dystopian meddling.
Just to round off the story, the fun continued when we left the club at six in the morning; we got lost in London (took the wrong bridge) and walked round offering a crumpled, printed google earth map to commuters and asking if they knew how we could get get to our hotel (we were miles away). Basically two smashed geordies miles from their hotel in the wrong part of London just bumbling about like wrecked morons. I can just remember showing somebody the map and asking for help reading it and him looking at us in a bemused manner and saying "... you do realise the maps upside down, don't you?". I also remember asking someone if they knew how to get a taxi and they kind of went "well... you just, you know... flag one down..".
We got a taxi back to the travelodge sniffing our way through a good few grams of ket from big a wall painting, with xanax scattered all over the table due to the fact we couldn't work out which were the tracers and which were the actual xanax.
I woke up later in the morning to a member of hotel staff in the room shouting at me as I lay on the right hand side of the picture frame next to rolled up notes and a mound of ket (with xanax scattered all over the table) and tunes blasting out a speaker, with my mate lying there with white powder all over his face. The guys words were "right, after whatever little party you've had in here, I'd just like to inform you that you've overstayed your welcome and the police are on their way".
We had to try and pick up all the ket and xanax using double vision, before scarpering out the hotel only to find there was a parade in celebration of the queen and we couldn't get a fucking taxi to the train station. Missed the train and had to spend a hundred quid+ on train tickets back to Newcastle.
Good weekend like.
p.s This is us back in the hotel looking in the mirror (me on the right). We took the photo because we were so in awe of the room that we felt we had to document the visuals.
Obviously you can't see the visuals as intended, but you can definitely see it in our faces.
Fuck da system!!!
... it did affect the vibe though imo, wont be going back.
