Nightclubs
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
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Copenhagen, 1990
I was in the Danish capital for a December "citybreak" with my brother and a mate. We'd been out on the piss all evening and ended up at a nightclub some of the locals had recommended. After queueing up for ages in the freezing cold we finally got to the front and the doorman, on taking one look at my brother's dark-coloured trainers said "I can't help you with those modern tennis shoes". That still creases me up, that one. Poor old Tom had to trudge back to the hotel alone. I remember stumbling back a few hours later and having a piss in the street that froze almost instantly. Great days.
( , Tue 14 Apr 2009, 15:40, Reply)
I was in the Danish capital for a December "citybreak" with my brother and a mate. We'd been out on the piss all evening and ended up at a nightclub some of the locals had recommended. After queueing up for ages in the freezing cold we finally got to the front and the doorman, on taking one look at my brother's dark-coloured trainers said "I can't help you with those modern tennis shoes". That still creases me up, that one. Poor old Tom had to trudge back to the hotel alone. I remember stumbling back a few hours later and having a piss in the street that froze almost instantly. Great days.
( , Tue 14 Apr 2009, 15:40, Reply)
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