His toys he had put in a box and forced himself not to look at or play with for fear of being lulled by their bright, plasticky allure.
He was making progress and felt incredibly proud of how far he had come - he had even seen and touched a boob for Christ sake! Now that really was progress.
Indeed he even felt reasonably cool, especially modelling his new haircut and clothes.
He was a smoker now, too, and a music aficionado. He was also a good(ish) dancer and was on his way to meet a new, extremely cool friend who, as far as Gordy knew, did not have a penchant for dressing up as TV characters.
Indeed, Gordy had managed to tick-off many items on The Cool List in a very short space of time and tonight, he was hoping, that his efforts were at last going to pay off.
As he approached the Drill Hall, which was a low, box-like building with a pointy railed fence surrounding it, Gordy thought about Daisy again and expected to see her by the gates waiting for him, but he didn’t. He did, however, see Frazer or, at least, Frazer’s mohawk which was clearly visible over the heads of several other roller-disco devotees and, this evening, was dyed bright purple and seemed to stick up higher than ever.
When Frazer saw Gordy he threw up an arm (complete with wide, leather wristband with metal spikes sticking out of it) and waived him over.
“Hi, Frazer”, said Gordy, a little nervously - it still felt a bit odd having someone as scary as him as a friend.
“Hey, man!” replied Frazer cheerfully before noticing Gordy’s skin-tight Levis, “Dig the crazy spray-ons - they’re insane!”
Gordy hoped this was a compliment and he was fairly sure it was, although coming from Frazer, who was dressed in a tie-died T-shirt and knee-length denim cut-offs, he was not sure that he should take it that seriously. Besides, ‘insane’ was not the look he had been going for when he left home.
“Er, thanks”, Gordy said, apprehensively, “they’re new”.
“Yeah?” said Frazer, sounding not entirely convinced but happy enough to go with it. “Great”.
Frazer had a green PVC Puma bag over his shoulder, which was open, and inside Gordy could see what looked like a well used pair of very expensive ‘pro-style’ roller skates. Suddenly he started to think that this whole roller-disco thing might not have been such a good idea. He pointed at the skates and said, “They’re nice. Am I supposed to have some?”
Frazer smiled. “No man. You’ll be able to rent some inside like most people do. I’ve just got these cos I skate a lot”. This did not make Gordy feel any better but he smiled anyway.
“Daisy not with you?” Frazer asked, looking about at the now dwindling parade of punters making their way warily passed him and into the Drill Hall and seeing no one else heading towards the roller-disco except for a small lad in knitted bobble hat.
“No. We were supposed to meet here”.
“Oh”, said Frazer, sounding slightly disappointed. “Maybe she’s running a bit late”.
“Yeah, perhaps”, said Gordy, although Daisy didn’t really ‘do’ late. She was always on-time for everything. Once again, Gordy thought about Daisy being dragged off to Madge’s house and desperately hoped that her failure to appear tonight or, indeed, her absence at Bailey’s Bandstand that day, hadn’t got anything to do with his nan’s hopelessly hack-happy hairdresser of a neighbour.
“Let’s give her a few minutes shall we?” Said Frazer, suspiciously eyeing the young lad in the bobble hat who was now loitering at the far end of the building and avoiding eye-contact. This was par for the course for Frazer. Many people found him intimidating and had a hard time looking him in the eyes but he couldn’t for the life of him think why.
“It’s alright, mate!” Frazer shouted to the young lad, “You’re safe - I won’t bite!” However this just prompted the lad to disappear around the corner out of sight.
“Oh, well, I tried”, said Frazer, shrugging his wide shoulders. “Fancy a fag?”
“Er, yeah, sure”, replied Gordy, eager to show of his natural prowess as a smoker.
Frazer reached into his Puma bag and pulled out a well-worn tin of Golden Virginia. Inside, along with a half quantity of tobacco was a cheap Bic lighter, a packet of green Rizla and a half-dozen pre-rolled roll-ups. He offered the tin to Gordy.
Gordy looked at Frazer’s white, wizened rolled-up efforts wishing now that he hadn’t accepted the offer of a ‘fag’ so quickly. He’d only just mastered smoking ‘normal’ cigarettes, with their nice smooth lines and perfectly cylindrical filter tips. But these roll-ups of Frazer’s couldn’t be further from those. They were wrinkly and thin and had wisps of tobacco protruding uninvitingly from both ends.
However, Gordy was desperate to look cool and experienced in the art of all things smoking related and had Frazer pulled out a hand-carved Bavarian pipe he’d have no doubt had a puff on that too, so he selected a particularly puny looking cheroot and placed it cautiously between his lips only then wondering, a bit too late, if it might contain what his dad would describe as ‘whacky baccy’.
In turn, Frazer selected the fattest one for himself and sparked it up with the Bic lighter, then offered the flame to Gordy.
The taste was harsher and much coarser than the filter tips Gordy was used to and when the smoke hit the back of his throat he couldn’t help but cough a little. Fortunately, though, Frazer didn’t seem to notice as his attention was elsewhere.
The young lad in the bobble hat was now peering around the far corner of the Drill Hall and Frazer was squinting his eyes, trying to get a better view of the person he was now almost certain that he recognised.
“Daisy?” He whispered, in disbelief.
“What?” Said Gordy, spitting rogue pieces of tobacco out of his mouth that had jumped ship from his poorly-packed, foul-tasting roll-up and trying desperately not to cough his lungs up.
“That’s Daisy,” said Frazer.
“What? Where?”
“Up there. In the bobble hat - peering round the corner.”
“Eh?” Said Gordy, following Frazer’s line of sight and then adding “Oh, no,” as his eyes came to rest on the ‘young lad’ loitering alone at the end of the building.
Gordy instantly recognised his friend and in the same instant realised what had happened.
Madge had obviously struck again.
Chapter Ten
Daisy blinked, trying to clear the fog from her newly fitted contact lenses which her eyes were still struggling to get used to. Her tear ducts were doing everything in their power to reject them which was causing her vision to be periodically blurry. ‘Par for the course’, so her optician had told her, ‘Nothing that a good blink won’t sort out’. But the fact that she couldn’t see didn’t help much when she was trying to avoid being seen.
Her plans for the roller-disco had been decimated by Madge’s psychotic snipping and rather than ending up with a hair-do that resembled Farrah Fawcett-Majors she had ended up with a crew-cut that would be the envy of most Marine Sergeant-Majors.
Madge, however, had been delighted with the cut, saying that Daisy now looked the spitting image of her idol Lee Majors. Daisy just didn’t have the heart to add to Madge’s obvious confusion by explaining the difference between Farrah and Lee - the Hollywood husband and wife who she had clearly mixed up.
Nevertheless, the whole thing had been a complete disaster and Daisy had resolved not to go to the roller-disco after all as Steve Cool would not look at her twice now. But curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had decided to sneak down and take a peek. The lure of seeing Steve Cool, even at a distance, was just too great. So in order to disguise her abomination of a hair-do she had pulled on a plain brown bobble hat that she had found in her mum’s wardrobe - the only plain, non-paisley, non-flower-power, non-mental garment in there.
Daisy also wore a shapeless snorkel parka that she had purposely chosen
to further throw people off the scent of who she really was.
But it hadn’t worked. She had been rumbled and as she stood peering around the corner of the Drill Hall, blinking her eyes to get a better view of the groups of teenagers entering the roller-disco, she saw the unmistakable sight of Frazer and Gordy running towards her. Through her blurry vision, Gordy appeared to have very thin blue legs and a pair of clown shoes on, he was also running strangely, like he was drunk, which struck her as a bit odd. She was not to know that the roll-up Gordy was smoking had gone straight to his head and he’d come over all woozy, making him run in a wobbly way.
Anyway, before Daisy could make her escape and hide her embarrassment, Gordy and Frazer caught up with her.
“I thought it was you,” said Frazer, grinning triumphantly. “Wow! You look really great without your glasses! And I dig the hat too - real edgy.
Gordy knew that ‘real edgy’ wasn’t exactly what Daisy had been going for and completely understood the reason for the hat - again guiltily wishing he’d been a bit more forceful in preventing Madge’s madness. He also doubted if bobble hats could ever really be described as ‘edgy.’
But he did agree with Frazer that Daisy looked great without her glasses - really pretty and the freckles on her nose that were now visible due to the lack of hideous blue specs just added to her prettiness.
However, “Blimey!” was all he could muster, sounding unintentionally unenthusiastic due to being still worn out from his short, smokey sprint. ‘Blimey,’ in retrospect, was not necessarily the most encouraging reaction, however.
Indeed, it was open to a multitude of interpretations by an insecure, newly sheared young girl - from ‘Blimey! you look incredible’ to ‘Blimey! - you look bloody awful!’
Because she was feeling so insecure, Daisy opted to dismiss the former possibility and all too readily accept the latter, prompting her to burst into floods of tears - very nearly washing her new contact lenses away in the process.
“Hey, no - you look fine - really okay!” Said Gordy digging himself an even deeper hole.
“Fine? Really okay?” Snapped Daisy, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you know anything about girls at all?”
“What? What did I say? You look nice. Very nice - is that better.”
“Nice, Gordy?” replied Daisy sarcastically, “Not fine or okay - are you sure? I mean, don’t go overboard!”
“Jeez, yes, I’m sure, alright! What’s up with you anyway - why does it matter so much what I think - it’s Steve Cool you’re trying to impress, not me”.
He had a point and Daisy really didn’t know why she was getting so upset with Gordy but for some reason it did seem to matter what he thought and the realisation of that fact shocked her. Maybe it was just PMT - not that she’d had any previous experience of that before but there was always a first time. So that’s what it must be or, at least, that’s what she chose to believe.
“You’re right. I’m sorry”, she said, drying her eyes. “It’s not your fault - it’s just a bit of PMT that’s all - honest” (Just saying that she had PMT made her feel a lot more grown up and much more womanly, which was surely a good thing).
However, this was all new territory for Gordy. PMT? He thought, what the hell did that stand for? (Pissed-off Moody Teenager? Post Madge Trauma? Particularly Miserable Today? Pubescent Mental Twat?). He had no clue but all he said was, “Sure. No problem”.
“C’mon, guys - let’s not argue”, said Frazer, “Let’s just get in there and have a laugh”.
“In there?” Squealed Daisy. “Are you mad? I can’t go in there looking like this!”
“Course you can - you look great, really great. Doesn’t she, Gordy?” Said Frazer giving Gordy a look that screamed ‘for God’s sake don’t fuck it up again!’
“Yeah, you look fi— I mean you look fabulous!” He said. ‘Fabulous’ was clearly well over the top but it was certainly better than ‘fine’ which was what he was going to say until he caught Frazer’s eye. And it seemed to work.
“I do?” Said Daisy brightening a little.
“Yes”.
“Really?”
“Yes, really!” Gordy and Frazer said in unison.
Daisy smiled. “Well then, I could go in for a little while, I suppose”.
“Good. C’mon then”, said Frazer, “We’ve already missed the start and everybody’s gonna be out on the floor before we’ve even got our skates on!”
“Then we’d better get our skates on!” Said Gordy chuckling at his own pun (which was a typical ‘Alan’ type of joke that would have gone down well at the Golf Club or at a Round Table Dinner Dance but not so well at a teenage roller-disco). As it was, neither Frazer or Daisy heard because they were already heading towards the entrance.
“Bugger”, said Gordy under his breath before stubbing out his thoroughly unpleasant roll-up and running (in a wobbly way) to catch up.
***
Trevor had given much thought to his outfit for the roller-disco but he was having to resort to using his not so brilliant memory to conjure up an image of The Fonz as, unfortunately, Happy Days was one of the few shows on TV that he didn’t watch. Indeed, it didn’t even feature on his radar, as he preferred shows like Captain Scarlet, Space: 1999, Land of the Giants and Time Tunnel which were far more suited to his geeky appetite.
Sadly, Happy Days had also finished its recent run on the telly so was no longer available to give him a point of reference.
Of course, everyone knew that The Fonz wore a leather jacket and a white T-shirt (or possibly black, or maybe blue, or was it yellow? Trevor couldn’t quite be sure - but a leather jacket nonetheless - definitely a leather jacket). He also wore jeans (didn’t he?). But Trevor couldn’t think for the life of him what The Fonz wore on his feet.
Trevor was not stylish by nature. Fashion was an alien concept to him and the word ‘cool’, unless referred to in the ‘how to stop your ice-lollies from melting’ context, was a complete mystery. So effectively teaming a leather jacket and jeans with the appropriate footwear was completely beyond him.
This presented a bit of a problem when trying to sort out his roller-disco outfit. He’d even pored through that week’s edition of Look-In but there were no photos of Fonzie - just the usual bollocks about Benny Hill, Just William and The Famous Five.
He was at a loss. He asked his mum but she had even less of an idea than he did and his dad didn’t even know what a ‘Fonzie’ was. So Trevor had to wing it.
As he left the house, on his way to the Drill Hall, in a bid to win back his best friend, Trevor’s ‘Fonz outfit’ consisted of the following:
1) A red crash helmet (open faced, no peak) - because Trevor was almost certain that The Fonz rode a motorbike.
2) A white polo shirt (Airtex), borrowed from his dad and, therefore, several sizes too big, used as a substitute for a white T-shirt which he didn’t possess.
3) A very tight shiny black PVC, faux leather bomber jacket that had been hanging in his mum’s wardrobe since the early sixties; designed for a very slim, very short young woman.
4) A pair of sky blue Jonathan jeans in brushed denim with patch pockets (that his mum had bought for him from Fosters earlier that Summer but he had not yet worn).
and
5) A pair of black wellington boots because both Trevor and his mum and dad had assumed them to be the most logical footwear choice for someone who rode a motorbike - particularly if it was raining. Which, presently, it wasn’t.
Trevor was not 100% happy with the outfit but he was fairly sure that anyone ‘in the know’ would instantly recognise him as The Fonz, so cheerfully made his way to the Drill Hall safe in the knowledge that Gordy would be suitably impressed.
As it was, Gordy was already inside the Drill Hall when Trevor arrived but he was not worried as he had no intention of skating. He merely intended
to reunite with his best friend and give him a resounding “Heyyyyyy!”
As Trevor opened the door, the sound of incredibly loud disco music blasted his eardrums - or it would have done had he not been wearing the crash helmet. The music was pumping at full volume from the huge speakers of Dave Dunn’s Disco Dynamite.
‘Dave Dunn - still living with his mum’ - as the saying went, was the balding, 49 year old, mobile-disco king of Bradley who could be found behind the decks at nearly every social gathering held within the local area.
However, Trevor was not impressed and was extremely thankful he was safely insulated from the God-awful din.
***
Apprehensively, Gordy and Daisy strapped on their rented roller skates in the deserted changing area of the Drill Hall which was now strewn with bags, coats and shoes; their owners already in the ‘roller-disco’ proper. Frazer had his pro-skates on in a jiffy and was now whizzing up and down the changing area at break-neck speed whilst Gordy and Daisy were still sitting on the bench seats struggling with the worn leather straps of their cheap rented ones.
Daisy, by now, had removed the snorkel parka (under much duress) but had flatly refused to remove the bobble hat and any attempt by Frazer or Gordy to persuade her otherwise had resulted in a look that said “If you want to live, step away from the hat!” and they chose not to argue.
Unfortunately, as Daisy hadn’t planned on actually going into the roller-disco after her disastrous experience with Madge (which, in her opinion, had left her resembling a very butch, very militant lesbian), she was not dressed at all as she had previously intended. Under the parka she was just wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of baggy brown cords - which totally disguised her freshly formed feminine figure.
Nevertheless, after a lot of coaxing from Frazer and a now much more ‘girl friendly’ approach from Gordy (who was suddenly full of compliments), she was convinced that she didn’t look too much like a boy and in fact looked actually quite attractive.
Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool Page 12