by Gary Locke
As Clive tidied the irritation from his mind he couldn’t help but smile as he remembered one of these “trends” from his own youth. It was when kids, mostly girls who liked Bros, used to wear those removable Grolsh bottle tops on their shoes. He laughed at how strange that seemed now but also remembered how annoying he had also found that at the time. Thankfully the fact that strange trends used to annoy him in the past, as a child, meant that Clive wasn’t just a sad, old, out of touch, fuddy-duddy now. Of course it could actually mean that, as a child, he was a sad, old, out of touch, fuddy-duddy.
Hmm, was he an angry, Victor Meldrew like character when he was a young boy? Probably best not to open that can of worms. Instead Clive focussed on the stranger fact that, although these trends come and go, while they’re “here” pretty much everyone goes crazy for them.
The first one that came to mind was when Jack was six and he was desperate for (in fact, he needed) a Tamagotchi pet. And the reason that he needed it? The fact that all his friends had one. And so, driven by Jack’s Emperor’s New Clothes like obsession to follow the crowd and the fact that Clive and Gayle could afford it, they bought him one. What followed were a few obsessive days of hatching, feeding, playing, walking and generally caring for a “virtual” pet by pressing buttons, at the right time, on the front of a plastic, egg-shaped electronic device attached to a key ring. (Who wants to do all the above with a real pet when you can do it at the touch of a button with a Tamagotchi?)
Unfortunately Jacks first Tamagotchi sadly passed away within a week due to being over-fed, and the plastic, key-ringed device quickly followed suit and made its way into the dustbin. The bin men will have taken it to the tip before it went into a land-fill site where it would have joined the millions of Rubik’s cubes, Millennium Falcons and Tracey Islands and all those other, invariably nearly-impossible to get hold of (genius marketing strategy?) “must have” things. Things made of plastic that will never decompose and will sit there as a visual souvenir of mankind’s stupidity long after we have obliterated ourselves.
Clive had read somewhere that dabbing had actually originated from a dance, which fits in with other boogie inspired trends over the years; from the Birdie Song to the Macarena, from the Moonwalk to Gangnam style. For someone who had been so annoyed by it, he had certainly done his research. And his research had led him to a pretty clear conclusion: all these dance trends, and maybe all trends as a whole, had annoyed him - the (pretty much not in dispute any more) Meldrew clone. He just couldn’t really understand how things become so popular and how so many people seem to be completely powerless to do anything but become completely obsessed with them also.
As he thought more, Clive was happy that Jacks Tamagotchi fixation, and his keenness of “virtual” things in general, had been nothing more than a fleeting phase because he remembered all those outdoor and “real” things that they had done together over the years. Jack had certainly never been one to sit in his bedroom and play on a games system, all hours of the day. Many of his friends may have wanted to play FIFA on their Playstations or Xbox’s but Jack had always preferred to play for real on the park. And more often than not it would be with Clive – something that suited him perfectly and had created many, many happy memories. Clive wondered about the kids who seem to play on their computers, in their dark bedrooms, all the time; especially those who don’t play in the same room as the other kids they are playing against - because they play online. It had always amused him to wonder whether the people who had invented online gaming had done so because they finally got completely pissed off with their mates farting too much during all night sessions of Tekken.
Maybe there was something else that Clive needed to contemplate. Why is it that, whatever subject he begins to think about, nine times out of ten his thought process leads him to a joke that has something to do with somebody farting?
Chapter Thirty Six: The First Kiss.
Clive cleared his mind of any further flatulence related gags as he turned away from looking at the weight room. He slowly counted to ten to also steer his thoughts away from unruly teenagers and obscure trends in an effort to bring himself back towards some level of calm. He was certainly glad he wasn’t a teenager nowadays feeling like he had to impress girls, and a bunch of macho morons, by drinking other peoples’ cigarette butts and bodily fluids and, worse still, constantly dabbing.
Bloody dabbing.
As he looked across to Gayle he found her with a slightly sad and confused look on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her instinctively.
“Just feel a bit out of place here now.” She said under her breath. “A bit old you know? We’re a bit old. Everyone who walks past seems to be sniggering at us!”
Clive shook his head.
Sure they were a bit older than the teenagers here but he didn’t believe that everyone was so rude as to be sniggering at a couple of people, who may well be here to help or, as per the ruse they were pulling, were actually carrying out some kind of safety inspection. He had to change his mind after a group of three girls were quickly followed by two boys and two more girls, all of whom looked him and Gayle up and down and did indeed snigger at them. In fact, snigger didn’t cover it, the majority of them were almost laughing in their faces.
Bloody youth of today!
Just because Clive had his cagoule on (rain had been forecast) and Gayle didn’t look like she’d drawn on her own, ridiculously thick, surprised-looking eyebrows (what’s that all about with young girls these days?), it didn’t mean it was acceptable for these youngsters to laugh at them.
Clive looked across at Gayle and looked her up and down just as the girls and boys who had just walked past had. His own involuntary laughing told him straight away that the kids weren’t actually laughing at them because they were older, or because of what they were wearing, or the fact that Gayle’s eyebrows looked pretty normal. No they were actually laughing because of a different fashion item Gayle was wearing.
“Where are we from again?” he asked Gayle whilst still chuckling.
“What?” said Gayle in confusion and frustration.
“Where was it? Health and Safety, Certified Records and Bursary Services?”
Gayle looked a little confused for a second before realising Clive was repeating where Jeremy had said they had come from.
“Wow, how did you remember that?” she said, impressed with Clive’s rain-man like memory.
“It’s written on your badge.” Clive said still tittering. “Well the initials are anyway!”
Gayle looked down and read the white sticky label that Hayley had stuck to her chest: GAYLE HAS CRABS
What the hell?
Had Hayley not realised what she was writing when she did the labels? And how had she perfectly put a space between the initial for “safety” and the one for “certified” to make a clearly readable, highly embarrassing label?
Clive couldn’t help but laugh even louder as he saw the look of horror on Gayle’s face, that got even worse as he laughed even harder. He could only stop himself after he noticed Gayle looking at his own chest which transformed her distressed look into a fit of laughter of her own.
Wait a minute.
He “worked” at the same place as Gayle. He quickly looked down at his own chest and, yep, sure enough: CLIVE HAS CRABS. The lettering on his “id” badge was also perfectly spaced to warn of his own pubic lice infestation. He quickly forgave all the kids who had passed by and laughed at them; there was nothing wrong in laughing at people who had been suckered into wearing a sexually transmitted disease warning label.
Bloody Jeremy.
Had he done this on purpose?
Clive ripped his own label off and took hold of Gayle’s too after she also removed her own – carefully trying to make sure she didn’t pull her chiffon cardigan. He walked over to the large bin that was overflowing with bottles of Rola Cola and Panda Orange, thinking that sugar-fuelled teenagers were probably just as hazardous
as alcohol fuelled ones, and stuffed his and Gayle’s labels into it. He contemplated for a moment about how inappropriate it would be to join the queue for the trampoline, he’d always been a sucker for trampolines and bouncy castles, but thought better of it as he noticed Jeremy coming out of the side corridor and back into the main hall.
He was sweating fairly heavily and looked generally hot and bothered as if he may have spent the ten or so minutes away from them having an intense weights session / rugby mob induction of his own in the weight room. Clive thought about giving him a piece of his mind about the childish and pathetic name label gag but realised straight away that Jeremy had probably been completely oblivious to it, as he was still wearing his own label that also perfectly read: JEREMY HAS CRABS.
After they had walked over to where Gayle was, Clive motioned his head towards Jeremy’s label to bring it to Gayle’s attention and they both spent a couple of seconds of childish, snorting laughter as Jeremy looked on in complete confusion. He waited to be let in on the joke but neither Gayle or Clive had any intention of telling him, not when it would most likely amuse them completely for the rest of the night.
“That took a bit of sorting.” Jeremy eventually said “But everything’s ready now. Follow me!”
Clive and Gayle followed him across the main hall, down the corridor and towards the small room at the back of the building that they both remembered to be the disco room. As they got closer to the door a few disgruntled looking teenagers left the room alongside Hayley from the front desk. Gayle heard one of them mumbling “.....dunno, fire alarm test or summit, think she said” as they passed them and began to feel a little guilty that these kids were being kicked out of the disco room for them. They were three people who were too old to be here, had actually lied about why they were here, and two of them had already had their turn of being here many years ago. They really shouldn’t be here.
She had no opportunity to air her views as, once at the door, Jeremy quickly ushered them into the room and stuck a piece of paper of the outside of the door before shutting it closed behind them.
Wow.
The feeling hit both Gayle and Clive completely and instantly. It felt like they had just walked through a door that had taken them back in time. Whereas the main areas of the youth club certainly had a similar look and feel to them as they had in the past, this small room felt exactly the same. It was dark and smoky and had the same array of blue, green, yellow and red lights spinning and oscillating and piercing through the foggy atmosphere. The only other light in there was the faint green glow that signalled the fire exit door on the far wall. The tiny “stage” area where teenagers used to sit and snog was still there along the wall to the left hand side. Clive and Gayle could almost picture these kids as they sat in a row, in their pairs, and had some kind of unspoken contest to see who could snog for the longest, without having to come up for air.
This room was also warmer than the other parts of the youth club, exactly how it used to be, and still had an aroma that you couldn’t quite put your finger on; a fairly smokey but yet pleasant smell that was completely unique to the youth club disco. It was like this tiny room had somehow been sheltered from the rigours of time, like a lost world island that still had dinosaurs roaming around on it. (Although, admittedly, this wasn’t an island because it was just a room. And (hopefully) there weren’t any dinosaurs roaming around or this would be a night to remember.)
Jeremy disappeared into the DJ “booth”, which was still a flimsy, wooden structure, probably begrudgingly thrown together by a previous school caretaker when the idea of a disco room was first hatched. Out of the silence came the Kylie and Jason “classic” (depends how you like your “classics”, I suppose) Especially For You, and that completely sealed the deal – Clive and Gayle were instantly taken back to their previous encounters with this surreal, small room.
It felt, to them, exactly like that strange phenomenon when a specific set of individual memories, usually stirred by numerous senses, align to create something of a wormhole of feelings that transport you to another time and place. Maybe like the way the dying light makes the sky look on a warm summers evening, aligned to you sitting outside with your skin tingling following the kiss of the suns warm glow that day; and there’s the smell of freshly cut grass and the taste of warm marsh mellows that have been toasted on an open fire. (Ok, that may just be a little too unique to be applicable for everyone, but you know what I mean don’t you? Several déjà vu sensory moments coming together to create specific memories.)
Clive and Gayle were now in a completely different time; a time from the past, a time when their feelings for each other were growing to their absolute strongest. They began to smile at each other and sway a little to that mechanical, manufactured, but ultimately ear-pleasing, Stock, Aitkin and Waterman backing track.
Then there was dancing.
And it wasn’t time-appropriate to the song, but rather the dancing that they always used to do for every song back in their days of the youth club disco. Hands behind their backs, slowly swaying left and right, with that undisputedly cocky Manc swagger as if they were members of Oasis.
The music then changed and the second record Jeremy played was In These Arms by Bon Jovi. Gayle clapped her hands above her head in excitement, not worrying one bit that she looked like a deranged, hungry seal, as Clive smiled and looked over at Jeremy in the DJ booth. This was one of Gayle’s favourite tunes, a song that he also liked and they had enjoyed together, so Jeremy had certainly done his homework. Clive reached out and grabbed Gayle’s hands and they began a very loose, but energetic romantic waltz type dance together – just like they had in this room in the past. They both laughed and smiled and gazed at each other as they sang out the last couple of lines of the first chorus loudly “ .....I’d love you ‘til the end of time, If you were in these arms tonight.” For the rest of the song they continued dancing and laughing and singing and spinning – something they hadn’t done for at least ten years.
The record then began to fade away and Clive slowed his dancing a little and naturally pulled Gayle into his arms. Still beaming a huge smile Gayle allowed herself into his embrace and fitted perfectly back against his chest; just like she always used to in those days gone by.
A new song began and the intro was a slow, distinctive acoustic groove that they both recognised instantly: it was the song Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm by Crash Test Dummies – the song that had been playing in this very room when they shared their first kiss. Without needing to speak to each other or even make a conscious decision about what they were doing they both slowly walked towards the tiny stage to the left of the room. They stepped up whilst still gazing at one another and then turned to sit down, backs against the wall. Clive put his arm around Gayle’s shoulder and they just sat there for a few seconds, cuddling and taking in the music, exactly like they had done many times in the past as teenagers. Of course their previous experiences like this had been accompanied by other couples; other teenage “boyfriends and girlfriends”, sitting in a row and snogging in that over-enthusiastic youthful way that must inevitably end in severe facial injuries for many of them. But it didn’t feel any different because even though they weren’t alone in the past, it had always felt like they were anyway. Sitting against this wall, listening to the music and gazing at each other, the whole world had always just disappeared.
And it was disappearing right now.
Clive and Gayle stared into each other’s eyes as the song headed into its titular chorus and couldn’t deny that some feelings, that seemed like they’d been missing for a long, long time, felt like they were slowly awakening. Both of them naturally wondered whether they should be tilting their heads and allowing their lips to slowly introduce, or re-introduce, themselves to each other.
And then it happened..... BANG!
The door was barged open and in stepped a large teenager wearing a rugby shirt. He flipped on the main lights, almost blinding Clive and Gayle, and shouted
at the top of his voice:
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE?”
Clive and Gayle both held their hands up to their eyes to shield them from the bright lights. The big guy looked at them and asked, still using his voice at the top end of the volume scale.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO? AND WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS SIGN ON THE DOOR?”
Clive could just about make out the sign that the big teenager, who he now recognised as one of the loudest of the crew he’d seen earlier in the weights room, was holding. It was obviously the sign that Jeremy had stuck on the outside of the door a few minutes earlier. It read: “KEEP OUT. Room unsafe – electrical testing going on inside.”
Jeremy stepped out of his booth and began one of his rambling speeches in an effort to calm down this large young man.
“As per the sign you are holding, you really shouldn’t have entered this room. We are testing the electrical systems and it is really rather dangerous for anyone else to be in here right now. If you can ….”
The rugby-topped youth had heard enough.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? ELECTRICAL TESTING MY ARSE – THESE TWO DON’T LOOK LIKE FUCKING ELECTRICIANS.”
Clive was now regretting throwing away his visitors sticker. It was the closest thing to “credentials” that he had, that he could have shown to the young guy. Then again, thinking about it, maybe he wasn’t. Bloody CLIVE HAS CRABS!
The lull in conversation was filled by the Crash Test Dummies who were still singing in the back ground.
“Once there was this girl who,
Wouldn't go and change with the girls in the change room,
But when they finally made her
They saw birthmarks all over her body.”
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS MUSIC?” asked the big, rugby youth, again at top volume. It was hard to argue with him, in this context the music did seem a little, well, odd.
Jeremy stepped over to the young guy and spoke to him in a hushed voice, as if he was sharing some big secret with him.