12 November 2009


The first of an occasional series documenting the adventures of S and P "out on the town".


Havin escaped Faversham pubs and male crap chat, we cruised through the rain mist and mud of Romney Marsh. Our mission; to enter previously uncharted party territory. with orders to ignore John should we by chance see him there. He did have a ticket.

Friendlier to some than others the security tried to deter us with a cry of "are you ravers?" Well.....with lots of blag, luck and downright cheek we avoided the mega £12 entrance fee. The first bonus point of the evening. We entered yet another pre-fab shack filled with a large crowd and the atmosphere of a high school prom.

A different generation of party peeps from us oldies, but with a perfect mixture of consumerables, including Sue's special honey bread, optimism reigned. Pam was prodded poked and elbowed by a gaggle of Just Seventeen readers, whilst a Gollum-a-like tried to salivate on my neck all night. John was wearing his helpless face, surrounded by short women. Oops! John who? All those shirtless, strutting steroidal men. You know there is one piece of your anatomy that steroids don't enlarge guys. The intense heat was broken by the lovely fans that reminded us of "Perfect World" and the drumming in the indescribable garage room that definitely didn't. The cold taps gushed forth with blue dyed water. Unnecessary, unhealthy and uncool.

Sounds, on an adequate sound system, were too hard for me, but Pam, grinning and gurning, stomped the night away. Two DJ's I recognised from the party I'm not allowed to mention the previous week. Just as my eternal optimism was being replaced with despair (and gaining an hour seemed unbearable) I heard a new tune. For the next two hours, LUCCI, in his red and black hat, played a brilliant set and had everyone blissed out in the dancefloor. New tunes we heard the following day at Paul and Nick's. The second bonus point. Poor John was dragged home early and missed the best bit.

A deceptive drive home for Pam, who asked why the party mobile was going so slowly, and the clock said 90mph. Driving through Dingley Dell heading for the Sunday Soakers in Whitstable we saw a mad dancing figure on the horizon. It was Aaron, walking home from DJ Nameless after a second party (that I must not mention. So much censorship in a free paper.) A fun night out with two bonus points. More backdrops, clear running water and some positive vibes needed. In my opinion, for £12, your customers deserve a bit more.

More "Girls Nights Out" reports soon!