Music to watch

No comment really.  Found this.  It reminded me a my youth.  Enjoy.

Black Eye

Little exercise I'm doing for a course.  Not that pleased with it really but enjoy nonetheless.

I hadn’t wanted to go to that stupid party anyway but I’d been asked to spin tunes and you don’t say no to big Tony.  It was a terrible night, loads of drunken, flirty housewives who you have to carefully flirt back to without giving them the wrong idea.  You never know who they’re married to.  Their husbands might be friends of Tony’s.  I don’t like them kind of parties.  The crowd is too varied.  If you’re playing one from the seventies they want one from the eighties.  If you play a new one, they want an old one.  A sweet looking old lady came up to me and basically said I wasn’t very good, and requested Eartha Kitt or something.

I was supposed to be driving the lads home but they’d been acting up.  Apparently some famous footballer was staying upstairs in the hotel  and the lads had found their way into the mail room and ‘half-inched’ a package for him.  Turns out it was full of Armani underwear.  They needed somewhere to stash it so muggins here ends up with stolen property under the seat of his car.  It got ruined later, more by the dirty water than the fire.

So, anyway, there’s me, in an uncomfortable suit, playing music I don’t even like to people I despise, who seem to despise me and certainly don’t like the way I’m doing it.  The whole thing was hacking me off.  So, ok, I made a big mistake.  I admit it.  I could feel the energy rising up from my feet, through my chest and down my arms.  I was getting ready to blow.  I stuck a long player on and got over to the bar, gave the guy behind it a wink to keep them coming.  I bumped into Alex and he was looking very blessed; had his sunglasses on in the dark.  Thankfully, or unfortunately, he was holding and I managed to talk him into giving me tick.  I even got him to cover the decks while I went to the toilet.  I had to dodge some oldtimers talking about the birthday girl, Tony’s sister, and slipped into the toilet cubicle.  The sound of credit card plastic on porcelain was music to my ears.  Then, it was back to the bar, keep ‘em coming good sir!

The last thing I remember is talking to this pretty girl at the bar.  She was wearing a red satin dress, at least I think it was, and she had a lovely smile.  The next I remember I was sitting in a cell with plain breezeblock walls, a toilet with no seat and ‘Are you here because of drink or drugs. Call…’ stencilled red on the ceiling.  It was hard to read with one eye.  The other was starting to close up.  I was getting a fat lip too.  Worse than that was sitting there and not knowing why.  They tell me everyone got out alright, although they aren’t talking to me now.  No one was more surprised than me that I minded.