I’m at the local social club. I’ve always been a recognised face but I haven’t paid subs for a long while and I’ve decided that now is the time to cough up. I’ve been given a refresher tour of the club’s facilities. As well as the member’s lounge and the stage room, there’s been some new facilities upstairs. I’m taken into a dancing studio where a class is finishing and another one is preparing to start. I ask to see the gym which is through the next corridor, and as we walk some of the ladies pass us either side, some very eager to strip off to hit the showers. As I look into the gym, I’m told that I can’t go in as bingo is at play at the moment. I look in and see a huge wood-panelled room with chandeliers and portraits in golden frames. I return to the bar and am happy to cough up, but the barmaid wants to find the club manager to determine whether I need to pay the lapsed years too and how much my total should be. While I wait, I drift over into the function room where my mates are being entertained at a party. There’s bottles of craft beer and shots laid out on trays as welcome presents. I spot my friends who tell me that I can’t join them as it’s a private function. I decide to leave and a small grey car follow me out of the driveway. I step aside to let it pass, only for it to park at the top of the road.
No comments:
Post a Comment