Two Penn’orth: Smack Down

Nazi analogies get thrown about too often. But on occasion you find yourself on the receiving end of unjustly exercised power and stare in to the human psychological affliction that can create gas chamber attendants.

Essays are finished. 17,500 words of hell are over and euphorically concluded with a sweaty last-ditch submission. Celebrations are in order. Tuesday, student night at Smack… why not? However after 10 minutes of nightclub sharking, I’m kicked out by a walking bicep, off his tits on steroids. My crime? Not understanding a Smack decree dictating no drinks may be taken in to the smoking area.

The policy was eloquently conveyed to me by a large bouncer who has become affectionately known as a “twat” by my fellow student brethren. The problem was that I did not understand what the man was saying. He pointed to the sign and asked me to read it. However, the font was small, resembling Microsoft Word’s Lucida blackletter style. If Countdown requires a new host I recommend this guy, because my delay at reading the sign was received with indignation, by a man with a clear fetish for the purity of the written word. He looked at me ferociously and stated “you leave”.

I find myself on Leamington’s mean streets with the usual suspects. A rag tag brigade of night club rejectees. No ID, tweens trying it on, pissed delinquents and sometimes their furious GFs. A place of misery and lost dreams.

What to do? To talk round a bouncer is unprecedented, but my narcissism tells me I am the chosen one. I proceed to plead my case falling upon deaf ears… deaf, ignorant, intransigent ears. They sneer and say, “Oh look, he’s using studenty language,” with the crooked owner joining in the chorus of accompanying jeers with his goons. “It’s a student night, no shit,” I state. At this point I change tactic. The only option left is cathartic bouncer abuse.

This happens all the time. Sometimes we deserve it. Molesting girls, being sick on people, performing sex acts on dance podiums, all are perhaps worthy offences that demand expulsion. But usually it’s just bang out of order and we all take it. These clubs milk us like cattle every week. Boring samey music sets, rude staff, Brita filtered aqua ‘vodka’. We put up with it all because we love our friends, we need a good time and Leamington offers limited venues. But this has fostered contempt and indifference by owners that treat us like cash machines.

{{ quote This happens all the time. Sometimes we deserve it. But it has fostered contempt and indifference by owners that treat us like cash machines }}

Sometimes I think students are just young versions of those pensioners you see at Christmas being patronised with a rubbery turkey dinner prepared with the loving tenderness of a rapist. We deserve better; instead, we’re greeted by the small time Leamington mafia with delusions of grandeur. Stand up for each other.