Does this qualify as a red letter day? I’m not sure – you decide. Today was my first ever Sixth Form Disco! Oh wow! It was a very strange to-do all round. For a kick off, many of the attendees (including me) were just 16 years old, and it was to be held on a Thursday evening. I’m guessing that Thursday was picked in an effort to keep costs down for our sensitive juvenile pockets.
There are two things that I remember about the disco. One prosaic, the other a delicious piece of growing-up-folklore. One of our Physics teachers was a bit of a prude. She was no more than 25, fresh out of University and teacher training and married to boot, and she DID NOT approve of the disco. Her stated objection was the fact that it was being held on Thursday – she expected no absences on Friday (we had Physics again). I’ve no doubt that her unspoken reaction was to alcohol and our tender ages – fair enough. If the police had raided the venue they’d have had much the same opinion. But then we were middle class kids attending a well off (if state funded) sixth form college, so they didn’t.
So far, so prosaic. The other memory that I have is my first and only refusal of alcohol in a licensed (or any other) establishment. I may have mentioned this before, but I was never small for my age, if anything I was a little on the large side. The same was not true of my mate. So we approached the bar and he pipes up, ‘two Bacardi and coke please’. Then after the barman had peered over the bar and told him to sod off (not to mention pissing himself laughing at the tweeness of it all), he passed me his £5 and asked me to order instead. Surprise surprise, I got the same refusal! Suffice to say, it didn’t happen again that evening and hasn’t ever since!
I make no mention of the getting served shenanigans in my diary – in fact the only comment is ‘good do.’ Ever the one for understatement, me.