Underaged Nightclub Adventures And/Or Antics
I’d always go to the Scrubhouse when I was 17. Friday night I’d go to an underaged nightclub, Deuce. Saturday night I’d go to an overaged nightclub. I’d get there at 7:30 before there was a bouncer on the door. After a while, they’d recognise me there, because I was a maniac on the floor. The bouncer would say “Hey buddy – got ID on you?”
I said “Yeah,” and reached for my wallet. He’d say “No – that’s okay. You don’t need to show me. I just wanted to make sure you had it.”
My brother would ask me where I went last night. “That jumper you’re wearing stinks like smoke. Either you were puffing like a chimney last night, or you were somewhere where there was a lot of smoke.
I said absent-mindedly “Oh… yeah. I went to the Clubhouse last night.”
“Sure you did Jones,” he said sarcastically.
After a few times of saying it, eventually he must have believed me. My parents asked where I’d been last night till 4:30 a.m. My dad interrogated me on the subject.
“Where were you last night??? We heard you come in after 4?!?”
“The Clubhouse.”
“Right. But it’s only open till midnight. Where did you go after that!??!”
“No, it’s open till 4.”
“Oh. Right. Well what do you expect will happen if they realise you’re underaged?!?”
“I’ll get kicked out I suppose.”
End of discussion.
I don’t think it’s illegal for someone underaged to be in a bar or nightclub – for the individual. The law puts all the responsibility on the manager of the nightclub, and the barstaff that serve him drinks. I didn’t have enough money for drinks anyway.
I’ve only been kicked out of a nightclub once when I was underaged. But it wasn’t for being underaged.
“Hey buddy – wake up.”
“I’m not asleep.”
“You can’t sleep here.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. I was meditating.”
“You can meditate out here.”
And he ushered me out. I would always meditated before I danced in those days, to help prepare the energies or some shit.
I said to the bouncers at the gate “Why am I being kicked out?”
One of them was a dick about it, but the black bouncer was cool and levelled with me.
I said “I’m not tired man – I can dance all night.” And I danced for thirty seconds, crazy footwork and letting my hands be guided by the rhythm. The girls in the beer garden looked over and smiled. The black bouncer applauded.
“That was awesome. But we can’t let you back in.”
