A return to the Doors

So, last night at the request of a really good friend (a REALLY good friend), I went to the Doors in Edenvale last night. It may or may not surprise you to find out that I spent every Friday night there, for about three years. We even went one Christmas night - THAT's how much we loved it there. Every Friday night, Zelda, Jamie, Gavin and Lionel and I would be at the upstairs bar, and sometimes Jamie's brother Andrew. Gavin would drink until everyone thought he would fall over, and then he'd drink some more. Jamie would find someone and play pool with them all night, and Lionel, Zelda, Gavin and I would chat at length about all sorts from the looming spectre of picket fences to the details of our romances, and everyone else's.

I even dressed the part - head to toe black, high platform boots, a long skirt with a thigh-slit slit revealing fishnet tights... I even did arty things with black eyeliner...

We'd people-watch, point and laugh (not too conspicuously) and crack ourselves up at our witticisms - and although I'm biased, we were really very witty. And then, the DJ would play Closer or Temple of Love, and we'd troop down to the dancefloor and jig around wildly for hours on end.

And then life happened. Jamie and Zelda moved to Cape Town. Lionel got involved with someone who didn't like the Doors. Andrew died in a hiking accident. Gavin met a girl, married her, divorced her and married another one. Brett and I got married, and then the boys arrived - when you're sleep deprived already, you don't want to be out jigging around in The Dark Place until the wee hours.

I've been back a few times in the last few years, and every time I go, I swear it will be the last time. Without the glow of that circle, I can see the place for the hole it really is. The cleanest nightclub I have ever been to, from the dancefloor to the toilets and everywhere between, but it's a hole. With angry music and very angry people. You must be angry at life, and your own self,  to pierce yourself all over your face, in my opinion!

Anyway... back to last night. Lionel is going through a bit of a rough time, we had babysitters anyway, so agreed to meet him there. Here are some things I learned, in my return to the Doors:

- The lady cleaning the toilet has got to have the worst job in the world, but she does it brilliantly. Her job is only slightly worse than the people picking up bottles and stompies - although I can't think how much they must hate the very very loud music.
- The Doors has changed its music style. They were playing WEDDING music last night: Life is Life, and THE YMCA - and what freaked me out the most: everyone on the stage DOING THE ACTIONS!!!
- The drinks are cheap, and they taste that way.
- Even the Doors has caught up with social media - it has a Facebook Fan Page
- In spite of the fact that the place looks like a hole, the bouncers keep it safe.
- I listened to some of the lyrics properly for the first time last night. (Yes, I know. We talked a lot, ok?). Some pretty scary stuff in there.
- It still is the only nightclub I've ever been where people really don't care about what you're wearing. They're more interested in the person you are, and they're the friendliest scary people I've ever met.
- It's also the only nightclub I've ever been to where you can dance EXACTLY as you want to, and nobody stares. Lionel 'hatches', he doesn't dance. This soothes my Standard 4 soul, which was irreparably damaged when I didn't dance the 'right' way on school tour.
- There's even a class divide at the Doors now - part of the upstairs bar is segregated, I know not what for.
- The birds are still tweeting - after all these years, they still haven't figured that there's got to be somewhere quieter to catch a few z's.
- Even though we're nearly 40 (eep), jigging around wildly to music that makes your heart thump and your soul soar is still a great way to work through a rough week.