"Come to Whitley Bay", they said, "it'll be a laugh"
Back in a previous job, we had a bit of a ritual where most of the office would have a night out once a month, around pay day. These were usually good times to let off a bit of steam and have a laugh. Sometimes we would go down to the Quayside in Newcastle, other times we’d be a bit closer to home.

Then one woman, on the excuse that it was her birthday on payday, suggested that as a change we go to Whitley Bay. “It’s a great night out”, said she.

“Bollocks”, thought I, but as I’d never been, figured why not? It could be a laugh. Despite being a bit of a twat to get to from where I lived (and for some reason, unlike other times we didn’t hire a bus), I managed to blag a lift from a colleague who lived near by, and who wasn’t going to be drinking that night. I agreed to give her a fiver in petrol for her troubles.

It was perhaps one of the most hideous nights out I’ve ever had. Three hours of being dragged into gaudy, neon pubs where you couldn’t hear a bloody thing anyone was saying; wading through piss in the toilets; necking overpriced bottled shite because everyone else “was going to the next bar”…

“But I’ve just got served”.

“Aye, but it’s crap in here so we’re going next door”. What made them think it would be any better next door when that had been the standard opinion of every bar visited thus far I didn’t know, but not wanting to be left on my own in a strange bar in a dying seaside town, I duly necked the contents and left.

The final bar was probably the worst of the lot – I can’t remember the name. Over the last 15 years I’ve managed to mostly blot the horror from my mind, bar a few snippets. I just remember that it was quite big, and gaudier and noisier than the rest. I could tell it was a classy joint straight away.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeey”, came a loud voice – I surmised it was the DJ – “Here’s Debbie! You’s should’ve seen Debbie when she wuz in here last week. She was celebratin’ hor borthdee, an’ as an extra special treat coz she was sooooo pissed, SHE TOOK HER TOP OFF! Whahey lads, have ye left yer bra at home again tonight Debbie?”, etc. The poor lass looked a bit mortified at this, and declined repeated requests for a repeat performance.

Unfortunately, another woman in the bar took this as her cue, climbed up onto the bar and began gyrating awkwardly to some non-descript chart music dancey bollocks that was blasting through the speakers. Teetering slightly, she began to do her best impression of sultry as she grinded, bumped and thrusted for all she was worth. One hand went up to the strap of her little dress, and slipped it over her shoulder provocatively… then the other one. It was a bit like a car crash as most of the room watched as the dress slipped off her shoulders and down past her free swinging norks, whilst she simultaneously continued to narrowly avoid gravity and topple forward off the bar.

What's so wrong with that, some may be asking? Well, for a start she was about 60 years old and a lifetime of cheap booze and tobacco had not been kind to her. Not exactly Helen Mirren, shall we say. And her norks had deflated.

Someone pass the mental floss, please?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 6 Feb 2009, 13:35, 6 replies)

Whitley Bay
Been there twice, with my football team and for a stag do. I think the place we were in was called The Rex. It was slapper central, if you couldn't pull in there you would be as well cutting your knob off.
( Stu71 ....bad money dies, I love the scene, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 15:14, closed)

^
Ah. The Rex. Inappropriately named as it's about as far away from regal as you can get . .

The ideal environment for a Granny fixated bed-wetting pyromaniac. Suspect that the only reason it's not burned down is that the spare mattresses lined three deep on the top floor corridors are still damp.

Happy days.
(SalRossi Laughter the best medicine? Nurse, penicillin....., Wed 11 Feb 2009, 12:07, closed)

mental floss
hilarious!
(amauriosis fugax took more than one snow day off, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 16:36, closed)

Mental floss...
Copyright ancrenne.

Credit where it's due...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 6 Feb 2009, 19:13, closed)

...
she took it as a queue ?
(b3tamax Mate, you're fat and I'll throw you in the river, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 16:54, closed)

Sorry, yeah :)
Edited.

Rough day at work. That's my story anyway...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 6 Feb 2009, 19:11, closed)