The Perks of Bein’ a Wallflower

Starting from the age of 17 me and my mate who I’ll call Lally would go to town every week and get smashed. The reason being so we could muster up the courage to talk to girls. Was it successful? Usually not. Occasionally. But mainly we’d be reduced to propping up the bar ordering endless rounds of warm shite beer and occasionally acridly sweet alcopops when the mood arose.

Me and Lally weren’t the worst looking shmucks on the dance floor however we weren’t the most outgoing either. Lally in particular would usually stand back-to-the-wall, arms folded not uttering a single word for the duration of the night.

We’d usually end up in the Krazy House (in Liverpool). You’ll probably know the type of place; smelly, cheap, full of the usual outcasts and miscreants, playing the same tripe every week. Beth Ditto’s warbling of ‘Standing in The Way of Control’ for some reason stands out along with Arctic Monkeys’ first album. The floor had a mysterious black tar which would over the course of the night attach itself to your clothes and shoes. Overall it was a nasty place but a necessary one. It was like an apprenticeship in shit nights out.

The Krazy House was open Thursday (2for1 night) Friday and Saturday (usually the busiest) and at times we’d been on each night sometimes more than once a week. Usually on a Saturday if you were “lucky” they would show on the wall, via a projector, Match of the Day of the 70’s. Without any sound. I never found out why a night club in the year 2005 showed MOTD 70’s and sometimes Thundercats. However this would almost always put paid to what little inclination we had to speak to the fairer sex. We’d stand there, slightly to the left of the dance floor where teens would swap spit and other bodily fluids, and marvel at the majesty of Bremner, Keegan et al. Occasionally (but not very often) commenting to each other  “see that?” to which the other would grunt.

If there was no TV entertainment we’d usually, in the absence of conversation, fixate on some object of lust. Usually radiant among the ultra-violet glow Fosters induces.  At the time never once did it strike us that we should approach such a goddess like figure, who retrospectively was probably slightly ropey, and to be honest it was probably a good thing anyway – Being from an all-boys school and only ever interacting with the very minimum of women the only thing we’d probably have to offer after hello would be, “did you see Keegan’s volley then?” To which she’d probably make an excuse and go and stand next to the lads with the better clothes & haircuts.

I’m now 22, Me and Lally are still mates but we don’t really go the Krazy House anymore, to some extent we’ve discovered other places along with just growing up in general has changed us as people. But I still hold onto that ritualistic weekly migration and wouldn’t really change it. Well, I’d probably add a few blow jobs in the dirty bogs.

"Did you see Keegan’s volley then?"

Tags: booze, clubs, growing up, keegan, liverpool, the krazy house