"Joel's pissed!"

"Everyone's gone upstairs for the cheesy shit but the joke's on them because we're gonna be playing cheesy shit down here too!"

"JK's dad's a Brazillian! He's put money on Brazil to win the World Cup."
"No he isn't, he's a gypo."

My geography of England is rubbish, I admit that up until about two weeks ago I didn't know Gloucester was about an hour away from Birmingham. Nor did I know, until I got there yesterday, that it was so close to Bristol; really, someone should have warned me. JK and Joel were djing at Liquid in Gloucester, hence my being dangerously close to Bristol, and Jen and I decided that if we didn't go then we'd regret it. Plus I'd already worked out that if I ever talked to them I've have to be drunk, so a club gig was a good start...

Having arrived in Gloucester, Jen then proved why no one should ever put her in charge of anything by spectacularly leaving the hotel details on her computer desk at home - far worse, I think, than my rush packing job that meant I lacked pyjamas. Eventually we managed to procure the address, jump in the nearest taxi and get to the guesthouse without any more disasters. In true Nik style I got ready ten minutes before we were due to leave preferring instead to lounge on the bed for hours. Upon arrival at the club in question, it became apparent that I probably could have lounged on the bed for a further couple of hours since it was dead, so we left again and found the nearest bar from the dulcet sounds of Uptown Girl blasting from their dj booth. For the next hour, we sat in the bar drinking and listening to a plethora of 80s music as well as Steps and trying to convince Corinne, via text, that we weren't in a gay bar.

Eventually we emerged to the discovery that there was a queue to get into the club, something which in my rapidly becoming an ice cube state I didn't relish. As if to add to matters, the bouncer man made me find my provisional driving license rather than my student ID and then politely told me not to wear my converses next time. I neglected to tell him that unless they planned on getting JK and Joel back again, I wouldn't be gracing the club with my presence a 'next time'. Once in, I headed straight for the bar and then we settled into seats near the dancefloor in order to people watch everyone dancing to the brilliantly cheesy music eminating from the dj booth. Having already discovered JK and Joel were due on downstairs at twelve fifteen, Jen had to drag me away at five past so we could make our way downstairs. And go to the bar. Again. And then I discovered that vodka was the wrong option, especially a double that had cost me over five quid for the priviledge but was so awful that I couldn't drink half of it and instead switched back to beer and cider.

After a bit I felt Jen nudge me and sure enough JK and Joel had entered the dj booth. And then I realised that if I was ever going to be able to talk to them, I would need another drink. We decided not to go on the actual dance floor, my reason being that you weren't allowed drinks on the dance floor, but also because there was more room to wander. After all of five minutes it became rather amusingly apparent that JK was doing all the work and Joel was allowed the microphone to yell into and just generally mess about.


A further five minutes later, it became apparent that Joel was drunk, consequently his drunken antics became a source of amusement since he thought it a good idea to stand up on the dj booth on at least three separate occasions.


Their banter during their set was highly entertaining, with Joel talking about the World Cup and trying to discern if there was any English, Scottish or Irish people in the club, completely forgetting about Wales. And JK deciding to announce Joel was gay*.

"Make some noise if you think Joel's gay!"

After a while, the alcohol took effect and I decided to go and test out Nik's Theory of Hugs, which stated that Joel looked like he gave good hugs. So I promptly marched over to the dj booth, tapped him on the shoulder and told him that I wanted to give him a hug because I was drunk and it seemed a good idea, so he gave me a hug over the dj booth barrier thing. And I was right, he does indeed give very good hugs. Unfortunately Jen didn't find that out at that point because my attempt at getting her a hug went a bit wrong since he recognised her from her 'website' -he meant MySpace- at which point we decided, whilst very confused, to go back to dancing. They played a really good set complete with the almost obligatory Infernal. And no I didn't lasso.


After their set they went to the VIP bit but as JK walked past I decided to go up and give him a hug and tell him he did really well in The Games before wandering back to Jen to tell her that Joel gave better hugs. Rather amusingly, the VIP section was behind glass, which meant we could laugh at more of Joel's drunken antics, whilst I made friends with all the bouncer people in an attempt to blag my way in. It soon became apparent it wasn't going to be like the Riverside Blag of the Century** so I went to the bar and Jen and I sat on some seats so we could still see the door. After a while, Jen nudged me again and I looked up to see Joel emerging out the door so I walked over and gave him a big hug.

"You give better hugs than JK."
"Where is he?"

Hmm, well somehow we'd managed to miss JK leaving the VIP bit so I couldn't answer the question. He then started talking to Jen about MySpace and it became apparent that Joel also uses the international signal for computer/internet. He gave Jen lots of hugs so after a while I just threw my arms round him, probably drunkenly deciding in my head that I wasn't going to let go and he obliged by putting his other arm round me. I also decided to tell him that I was a student and shouldn't be getting up at five to listen to their show, at which point he grabbed my head and kissed me on the forehead, thus pretty much ensuring that I will continue getting up at five Monday to Thursday for a very very long time. I gave Jen my camera, which resulted in one of my favourite drunken pictures ever...




*He's not, before you ask.
**Two years ago, we managed to not only blag our way into the Riverside for a bit, but we got to walk DOWN THE PLAYERS TUNNEL. Manchester United were playing Boro and we got to past the half open door of their dressing room. As Steeeve said at the time, it really was the blag of the century.