Dance to different tunes
A few months ago this correspondent was transported back to the late eighties/ early nineties during a visit to a night-spot on Portobello Bridge called ‘Rain’. What carried your correspondent back two-plus-generations that night was not a spin to the venue in a Deloren taxi; or the music (Ska, Pop & Reggae of that time) played there, but the slow-sets encountered.
For those readers unaccustomed to slow-sets, they were slow-rhythm songs played (typically three-or four in a row, usually with a love-theme) at intervals in the evening which gave the night-reveller who’d taken a fancy to another night-reveller, the opportunity to ask them up for a tender-tango.
The subsequent response given, indicated whether your fondness was reciprocated, and you either hit the jackpot with a yes, and moved off to the dance-floor or hit a brick wall with a no, and had to move on.
Unfortunately for this correspondent who enjoys a tender-tango, Rain night-club appears to be one of the very few night-spots to offer this feature (subsequently told that Club Nassau also does slow-sets).
Nowadays it seems that night revellers have to think up their own way of hitting the jackpot with the night reveller they’ve taken a fancy to. This correspondent has observed various techniques used to obtain this desired result; examples include the time a friend developed a fondness for two girls from Slough (area outside London) while in a Spanish night-spot, and told them he had a monastery in the Irish midlands with forty-seven bedrooms, and they were welcome to visit anytime…..(at the time, he rent-shared a three bedroom house in south Dublin); or a colleague from bar-working days in London who took a shine to barmaid from a rival boozer, and after a few drinks in a Covent Garden night-spot, got into a shot-drinking competition with her to see who could hold their drink better (her, being held up by his arms under her oxters, signalled the victor).
Of the three examples displayed (offering a tender-tango, a porky-pie conversation or a sprint-drinking session) as ways of succeeding with a fancied night-reveller, this correspondent knows which one he’d opt for (am known to fold under interrogation & also more of a marathon-drinker); but in the interest of impartiality to those readers who peruse this piece, and may enjoy exaggerated-banter or competitive shot-swallowing, ‘The Choice is Yours’.
