So, you know what it's like. I’m the prodigal son, back for the first time since September, and I’m buzzing. It’s a strange sort of feeling. It's Christmas and the mood is in the air and it's crisp and alive and pulling you in. Streets that used to be dull and everyday, you haven’t seen for months, and suddenly they have a special air to them, familiarity mixed with newness and anticipation. It's your first night back and you’re going to live it.
Right now, you can find me heading on out, down the street, on the way to winter wonderland and all that stuff and digging what it means to me and my like-minded brethren of the night and what we need to do to get it into our soul. There’s a vibe in the air, a thing that tells you this is beautiful and we’re going to live it like our dreams never end and all that magic which pulls you in like you don’t want to stop. I reach the end of the street and wait for the traffic to break and I’m over the road and the first funhouse is in front of me looking big and large and inviting and I’m through the doors and, as I open them, a big BLAST of rock and roll energy comes at me BAM BAM BAM and in my face and it feels like a firework exploding into the night and I know the mood is NOW.
So I walk through, a big grin lighting up my funky little boat race and see them in the corner, hanging out near the jukey and that song we used to dig last summer is still playing and it's loud and bright and alive and so are they. First time I’ve seen them in three months. I go to the bar and check my reflection, my floppy barnet, my pea coat in black, my Henley top in black, my oh-so-snug and oh-so-perfect Levis in sky blue, faded like the early dawn, finished off with a handsome pair of loafers and this is a celebration which promises to be glorious and all the rest of it just because we’re young and restless and this generation’s directionless wasters that just want to live and love and have a fun time and the rest, with a cocktail of alcohol and LOUD music and long nights and dreams to hold onto before they fly off into the night sky.
I stand and wait and listen to the music and the girl behind the bar comes over and smiles at me and says she hasn’t seen me for ages and how’s it going. I lean on the bar and tell her I’m a student now and things are good. She asks me what I want and I say a pint of lager, please. And she goes away and comes back with a pint and it's in a straight glass just the way I like it with condensation on the outside and a small head and bubbles inside and it's my Ice Cold In Alex moment, just like it is every night, as I give the girl the money and lift the glass to my lips and have a long swig and it's cold and fresh and I feel it go down inside and I feel so good. I take it away from my mouth for a moment and have another drink. And I turn and walk over to the corner where they’re sitting.
They turn and smile and welcome me to the group. All right Seb. How’s it going. When did you get back? How long are you back for? That sort of thing. And there’s Dixie and Callum and Billy and the rest of them just sitting 'round and taking in the vibes like we do, and glancing at the gang of girls at the bar and passing 'round cigarettes. Billy nods his head and his mass of hair falls forward and the song we love so much starts to fade and it's nearly over and I have an urge to go over to the jukey and put it on again. But I don’t. What’s the point, when there’s a queue of forty-five-revolution-per-minute wonders stacked to play as soon as this one finishes, we’ll be gone by then because these boys don’t hang around, in this bar or any other, we move on when the time comes.
Right now I grab a seat 'round the table and join my soul brothers. Dixie passes me a ciggy and I light it with a disposable lighter from some holiday way back when and lean back and blow smoke into the air.
"So what’s happening later?" asks Billy, looking at me.
"I don’t know, you tell me," I say to the boy. "I’m back. I don’t know. I just want to go. What’s going down? I’m happy to go where the mood takes me."
He looks at me and nods in agreement and we decide it's wherever we end up and if we want to go. But, for now, we’re fine. Another hard rocking record comes on and I tap my feet in time to the music and pull on my ciggy and drink my beer and check my reflection in the window and think to myself I’m happy with how it all turned out tonight.
I finish my beer and get up from my seat and go to the bar and order another. I wait and pull on my ciggy and glance at the group of girls who are hanging 'round at the end, like they are every night, and look away and think about something else. There’s one and she’s blonde and leaning on the bar and laughing and joking and I think Dixie might have got with her a while back, though he’s off to pastures new by now and share-and-share-alike and all that, and is it my imagination, is she glancing over at me and I don’t know, and I put it out of my mind and get another drink.
Weave my way back through the bar, in and out, minding feet, and I’m back in the corner and sitting down. They’re all halfway down their beers and they’re talking about moving on, somewhere else, a change of scene, and it’s not something I want to do right now, I’m happy here, and there’s the potential for fun on the horizon and I don’t want to let it go, not tonight, not any night probably, but definitely not tonight. No, I say, let’s stay here for a while, hang around, take it in. But I’m not going to win, they want to go, so I drink my beer quite fast, let the sharp taste get to me and more tunes come on the jukey.
Dixie gets up, beckons us to follow. Follow the leader. The Pied Piper. He’ll play his tunes for a bit and they’ll all go after him and make a procession through town. I finish my beer and get up and we make our way through the crowds in the bar and I look back and give blondie a smile and I think she might have done the same and it makes me feel good, but I can’t be sure. We head down the steps and into the sharp air of the night and cross over the road.
We haven’t got too far to our next venue, another bar a way away. I watch them walking, Dixie his totally wired, nonchalant persona, like he’s fused up ready to go, into whatever it is like a spring and I see the vibe he has which some do and some don’t. And then there’s Billy, all tensed up as well, and he’s talking ten to the dozen about this, that and the other and none of it makes sense, though in a way it does, because it’s all tied up with the way he sees the world and loves life and its possibilities and communicates it like a boy on fire with ideas and dreams and ecstatic moments, just like we all have. And Callum’s walking along, laid back and nonchalant and his longish black hair down to his collar and he’s looking for something tonight, I don’t know what. And the rest of them are trailing off behind, listening and digging and taking it all in like it’s an education and the boy is a teacher, a sage, a guru. And Billy laughs his unique laugh and adds colour and panache and everything that you want to brighten up the night sky.
Then there’s a downer, though a temporary one. We walk through town, through the centre, and there’s the sound of trashy middle of the road Nowhereville nothing coming out of a pub doorway and it pulls me away from my dreams for a moment I think it’s just the thing for Nowhereville like this and I need to move on to something bigger, better and more in keeping with me, like I want to live it. But I put it out of my mind because I believe in optimism. It has to be. And I’m too young to worry and there’s time, lots of time, to realise all my ideals and there’s always time, even when you’re eighty there’s time because none of us knows if this is our last day or not and I put such thoughts out of my head and carry on with walking and we’re almost there at the Red Lion.
We head in and there are some boys we know sitting in the corner and they give a jeer and there’s an exchange of unpleasantries, all delivered in the finest possible taste of course, and we’re at the bar and Billy’s getting us the next round in and, whilst the initial feeling you get from your first beer of the evening doesn’t necessarily carry through to the next, it's good enough. I take a long drink and lean with my back against the bar and one of the boys who are sitting in the corner gets up and comes over and he’s engaging Billy in conversation and telling him about parties on this new estate just out of the town centre which sounds like they’re going to be worth a visit. There are at least two of them tonight, maybe more, because everyone’s getting into the Christmas vibe.
"There’s going to be loads there," says the boy.
"Who?" asks Billy.
"Loads of people. From all over."
This gang of girls who we see around town and who were standing in The Ship earlier. And I take notice and my ears prick up. Then they start talking about the party again.
"Are we going?" Billy puts the question to us.
"Of course," I interject.
I don’t want anyone changing my mind. Some of them seem to prefer the idea of a club but I contrast the plastic palm trees with the possibilities of a house party on the new estate, with no queue for the bar and no closing time and I think I’ve convinced them but I can’t be sure.
We stay here for a while, propping up this bar and talking about nothing. Then we go to The Bull and then the Barley Mow and it's nearly closing time and we need to get to the party. We finish our beers and persuade the boy behind the bar to sell us some bottles and I put mine in my pea coat pocket and put my empty glass down on the bar. We head out of the pub, in the direction of the new estate which is a walk out of town, past the park and down some streets until the whole vibe changes and it becomes more tree-lined and leafy and the cars are more flash and the houses bigger and the accents more refined. There are some pubs here, large, newly built ones, which we could have stopped at if we’d had more foresight. But they’re closed now and cars pass us with headlights bright in our faces as we walk and laugh and joke.
Halfway down, there’s a shopping trolley that’s been left on the street and Callum jumps in and Billy pushes him down this road, which goes downhill until he lets go and it takes on a pace of its own. It finally crashes against a wall and tips Callum out and he’s looking sort of shaken up by it all but we’re just standing here, cracking our sides with laughter and we keep walking until we catch up with him and he sees the funny side and starts laughing.
There are people ahead and there are whoops and yells and everything that tells you this is one big Christmas extravaganza and I’m so glad I came back tonight and not tomorrow which I was thinking about. Then we’re there. There’s music blasting out of the windows of the house and we walk up to the door and, in a second, we’re in and there are people here we know and we join the throng, hanging out in the hall and the kitchen and the lounge. I take a beer out of my pea coat pocket and open it and it sprays a little and it goes on my coat and I laugh and wipe it off. The beer’s cold and I take a swig and it floats down my throat. There’s funky music emanating out of the speaker and I find myself dancing in the middle of the room, the adrenalin pumping and me feeling on fire from the buzz of the night so far, the alcohol, the tunes and the expectation of what the rest of the night has to offer.
The music’s loud and the mood is high and it’s going to last all night. There’s Dixie and Billy and they’re strutting around and Callum’s doing his smooth moves and I sip my beer and it’s all happening as I’m dancing, doing my stuff and getting into the groove and all that. We do this for a while until I need a break and move off and hang around in the corner, drinking a beer and lighting a cigarette and watching all the beautiful people.
Then I see them. I’m leaning against the wall when they walk in. There’s about ten of them. But there’s one who stands out, she’s exuding beat girl glamour and panache, just as she was in the pub, with her blonde hair hanging loosely over her shoulders, in her pink bomber jacket, black mini and ultra-hip knee-length boots. She’s maybe a couple of years older than I am, perhaps a little less, perhaps more. And I forget about university. It’s a million miles away now.
I glance over at her, have a sip of my beer. Then I look away. They start to dance, all of them, making their way into the centre of the room. The party’s come alive now, everyone’s starting to move. I can see Dixie out of the corner of my eye. He’s off somewhere, with someone new. Callum’s doing the same and Billy’s giving it all he’s got. I join in, start to dance, get into the mood. I glance over again and she’s glancing back and I smile and she does the same. And she starts to move over and, in a few seconds, we’re dancing together and engaging in the first salvos of conversation.
"Don’t you go in The Ship," she says, or something like that. It doesn’t matter what she says and I don’t care.
I’m taking in the moment, the party and the mood and being back home and two weeks of fun and frolics and no responsibility ahead of me. And right now I’ve got a grin on my face, my new friend dancing in front of me, and I’m kicking for kicks. I know the score. Have fun like there’s no tomorrow, while you can. In the morning it will just be a memory, over, forgotten. Nothing will come of anything. Nothing ever does. But there you go. I’ll forget about tomorrow for now. It can take care of itself. It’s all part of the fun and games, I suppose.
