The Embassy club is phat! And, for one night only, I will be gracing its front door with my skill wizardry at keeping out unwanted scum mwah ha HAAA!
It’s all pretty self explanatory really, if you have a white wrist band, you’re in. If you turn your coloured wristband inside out so it shows white, you’re not in. Unless your hot and or looking like a cool floor filler type. Then ill let your cheating ways slide. If your name is on the list, you’re in. If you’re in a band, you’re in. If your industry, your in. If you’re a hot groupie, you’re in. If I know your cool and everyone doesn’t role his or her eyes on sight of you, you’re in. See it’s quite lenient, ‘cept when it starts filling up and then your shit out of luck ‘cause I’m saving the rest of the capacity for any late arrivals who are more important than you!
All this lateral door thinking leads to a good balance of people inside which, in turn leads to a banging party you see.
By 11.30 pm most people are in and my first pangs of jealousy are rousing inside of me. Truth be told it kinda sucks watching all these mega cool, hot and attractive people go in and mingle, leaving you behind on the door with your glass of Jack D hidden in a plant pot ‘cause your not supposed to drink on the door, looks uncouth innit. Don’t want to sound all dramatic and that but I’m not going to lie, I felt a bit like Cinderella. Sure enough I’m wishing the following couple of hours away till I finish and desperately hoping everyone hasn’t left by then.
Friends pop out every now and then to see how I’m doing which is difficult because I have to tell them to piss off because I’m working. What an ungrateful bitch eh, really don’t want to give anyone any reason to complain about my work tonight though, I am taking this very seriously peeps! Also, I am no where near as drunk as everyone else.
I see a bloke, who’s name has escaped me that I crossed paths with several times over the weekend at Download and who is sporting an Iron Maiden tour jacket, which upon commenting on, (along with praising his lovely thick head of hair ) tells me that he works for them in some type of managerial capacity and was on their recent world tour. I go fucking crazy at this, obviously. I’m well gay for Maiden. At this sudden display of excitement, he goes on to inform me that the drummer and guitarist, Nicko and Janick are only bloody inside! Along with my ex, who also works for Maiden! Wow! How the shitting fuck did they get past me? Before I know it this bloke has gone inside to drag out the ex, Dave and see if he can find a Maiden member for me!
Tonight is looking up my friends! Sure enough out trots Dave, hugs and shouts of ‘shots’ and then….Nicko! Standing in front of me. As in Nicko. Nicko drummer Nicko. Drummer of Iron Maiden Nicko. In front of me! And he’s lovely of course. Introductions aside I get a hug from Nicko, way more exciting then getting one from Dave, no offence love. Heads up people, according to Nicko, if he was twenty years younger….! Yeah he would!
Lady Starlight comes out and is even gayer for Maiden than me and so was proper chuffed to meet them, wins all round I’d say. Dave goes off to get me a drink and the madness subsides and suddenly I’m back on my own wishing that I was inside partying and being fabulous. The party is starting to die down as people start filtering out and all the faces start leaving. A boy gets turfed out by one of the security and soon after Nicko comes back out, asks to know what is going on and on hearing that the boy is being chucked out retorts with ‘no he’s fucking not’ and drags the kid back in. Turns out it was his son! The head doorman is shaking his head at the security saying ‘of all the people you could have chucked out you fackin’ idiot’. Nicko is such a hero. Swoon. The son hangs out with me for a while, funny lad and too soon even Nicko is leaving.
An eternity later and along roles 2 am. I am proper clock watching by the time this happens and race in to catch up on valuable party time. Alas, it’s pretty much done. Only the soldiers remain, The Fuel girls, the governor of Earache, Dave and Janick, some other faces I recognised. The fuel girls were heading out to The Sanctum, an exclusive rock n roll hotel round the corner with a Gallows member and I said I’d meet them up there for the after after party once I’d filled in my invoice. I hung out with friends for a while, did massive great Jager shots with Dave and then gate crashed the taxi Dave and Janick were getting in and got them to drop me at the hotel as I was very much not suitably dressed for walking the streets on my own. Less of course I wanted to earn some money. Or get raped.
I think we should stop and take a minute here to appreciate the fact that I shared a cab with a member of Iron Maiden. I know, he’s just a person too, but he’s a person who is in mother fucking Iron Maiden what! Yeah bwoy!
I arrive at The Sanctum with glee and anticipation and a massive rip/hole/tear down my nude tights, which is now pushing the fat from my thigh out in to the open in a horrifying bulge of cellulite. Class.
First things first when I reach up to the roof where the party is happening is to make a swift beeline to my mate Al and ask him if I can borrow his room to change my tights. His room is the fucking bomb. There is a roll top bath in the bedroom with a curtain of beads hanging down around it. Luxurious furnishings, a massive bed, beautiful lighting. Shame we don’t fancy each other. Hopefully he got some use out of it at some point.
Freshened up, I hit the after after party and started some serious mingling and schmoozing. Not really, got drunk didn’t I! As did everyone else, in my defence. I bounced between the various groups, high end business group talking shop, band group pouting and talking about their show and in general themselves, groupie group looking everywhere but at you, other fellow flutterers. I knew half the people there, within 3 hours another quarter, the rest didn’t take my interest frankly.
Debauchery was awash up there I tell you. No details of course. Needless to say.
By the time day dawned the party was still in full swing. Not until several hours after we spotted our first office workers in the neighbouring buildings at their desks did people stat drifting off to hotel rooms or who knows where.
And then there were 3. My two mates and me. Hot tub time. Ahh the good life. Some one else’s on loan but none the less the good life. We only scuttle off to the hotel room after the staff kick us off the roof . In the safety and warmth of the plush room we ramble on about everything and anything while balancing on the edge of the roll top bath hanging our ciggies out the window and eventually , after a couple of hours admit defeat to the reality of jobs and concerned partners.
The bus jolts me awake a short drive away from mine, and I manage to stay awake and not miss my stop. Up in my flat I look in the bathroom mirror at the dishevelled mess staring back at me and smile. I look like a zombie who’s just come back from ‘Nam with a touch of butchered hooker Halloween about me. What a fucking legend of a night. Bring on next year I say.