Wooo!!

So the Gremlin and I decided, quite on the spur of the moment and in our best disco outfits, to venture down to the St James Power Station last Friday for some quality time at Movido and the Bellini Room.

It was kind of like 2 cats who have been declawed, being let out to hunt. The cats cling to each other, yowling and looking around with big glazed eyes, but not really sure what to do next. We get there, wander in, get lost in the gallery bar and finally after 2 dead ends find ourselves in The Bellini Room where, incidentally (and you couldn't really tell by the way I guided us there) I had just been exactly 1 week ago with Fore!

People standing around with drinks in the dark - check
Some guy singing jazz on stage - check
Bartender trying to explain to me why there is no drinks menu - check

Nothing ever changes. Now what.

We moved on to Movido, where along with about 500 other sweaty people, we kind of bopped to the beat of Timbaland's The Way I Are, together with a bunch of other songs from vastly, confusingly different music genres. At one point, I was horrified to hear the opening notes of Abba's Dancing Queen. Even more horrifying though was the reaction of the (mostly Gen Y) crowd who seemed to think it was a brand new hit song. I'm almost completely certain that some of them will be attending at Gramophone or That CD Shop with requests for CDs with "that seventeen dancing queen song by that new girl group". "Dancing Queen" was played just after Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping" (coincidentally my son's favourite song) and then followed closely by some unspeakable Salsa dance number which morphed into trance music, thereby lending support to my view that the DJ was both visually- and audially-challenged.

As I heaved around and jiggled to the beat of a dozen different beats, I felt a sense of deja-vu. Nothing much has changed since I started sneaking into what my mother calls "that Rocks Hard Cafe" and "the nite-crup". I couldn't really tell, looking at the people on the dance floor, which decade we were in. It all looks the same. I could've been in Studebaker's/ Zouk/ Buzz/ Xanadu/ Brannigan's/ Brix or even at a tea dance at Warehouse. Jesus. I just dated myself big time there, didn't I. The guys all dress the same, and there's lots and lots of older and younger guys. The older guys just stand or walk around staring blatantly at the women like they're at a meat market, while the younger guys arrive in big groups and keep together, only venturing out on the dance floor sparodically (but still in groups) to lurch around vaguely to the beat while surreptitously checking out the girls.

The women on the other hand dance with each other in groups of 2 and 3, all looking around surreptitiously at the guys while checking that their handbags are still where they left them, and that their half-drunk drinks haven't been taken away. And the dancing is all very cute but rather modest and a little bit repetitive. I should mention that I've seen groups of women dance way wilder on the dance floor at Top 10, but I believe that type of dancing should more appropriately be described as a form of advertisement, like watching a bunch of live TV commercials. Except that TV commercials don't usually involve dry humping, but anyway.

End of my 15-min blogging break.