Date: Saturday, October 4, 2008.
Location: Some back street near The Candy Moon Club
Time: 12:15 AM
Considering Shauna’s flat was in Homerton, it took us no time at all to reach Old Street.
“JEROME, I’M NOT IN THE MOOD TO ARGUE. STOP PISSING ME OFF!” Jade shouted before stuffing her pink Blackberry pearl into her small tote bag.
“Ooops…Someone got told,” Johanna muttered from the front passenger seat.
“Marcia, stay single. It’s easier, trust me.” Jade huffed.
I was pretty certain that whenever Marlon and I were officially ‘official’, there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance we’d be cussing each other out half as much as Jade and Jerome did.
“Yes really. I tell you what, you WAIT till I get ‘ome. That Jerome had better be sleeping on the fucking settee next to that smelly pit-bull of his,” Jade warned.
“Awww I bet even poor little Shooby’s scared of you,” Shauna chuckled.
“Shut yer’ face, Shauna. I mean it man. Jerome’s always tryna’ wind me up for f#@$ sake. I swear down that prick’s gonna get it,” Jade snapped, folding her arms like a cross infant.
Whilst it was hard to tell whether it was really Jade or the copious amount of drink she’d been consuming delivering the threat, Jade, drunk or sober was infamous for following them through. I bet Jerome can vouch for that.
“So ladies are we ready?” Johanna asked whilst applying another coat of sizzling red gloss to her bee stung lips.
“We sho’ is,” Shauna answered.
“D’yah know how much I’ve been looking forward to this,” I shrilled.
“Tell me about it. It’s gonna be hype,” Johanna added.
Brushing my tongue against the small space in between my two front teeth, I was more than ready to get my groove on. Suddenly it hit me.
“Oh shit” I groaned.
“Wassup’ Marcia?” Johanna asked.
“I totally forgot to text Marlon back.”
“Allow it man, he can wait till later innit,” Jade said.
“True dat. True dat.”
“C’mon ladies, it’s time to parrrtttaaaayyyy!” Shauna announced, opening the driver’s door.
“Wow…Look at the amount of people. It’s a roadblock!” Shauna’s soft slanted eyes surveyed the throng of boisterous ravers waiting patiently in the never ending queue.
It didn’t stop there, as reams of people spilled out of the four coaches parked adjacent to the club.
“This way ladies,” Johanna directed.
Taking a quick peek at the crowds, it appeared that everyone from the celebrity music world was being replicated. Continuing to assess the different characters, I’d actually lost count of the amount of Beyonces and J-Lo’s that were present now.
“Whoever said originality was dead,” I laughed as we finally reached the V.I.P. entrance.
“Oh Johanna babes, you made it,” twittered some chick dressed in a long, demure black dress from further down the red corduroy carpet.
Clasping a large black clipboard in front of her, she hotfooted her way in our direction.
“Hey Elissa, of course girly, of course. There’s no way I’m missing the hottest rave happening this month,” Johanna beamed.
Greeting the girl with an air-kiss on both sides of her cheeks, Johanna waved to someone else she must have known at the door.
“Nice costumes ladies,” Elissa murmured, briefly inspecting our outfits.
“I bet she doesn’t even know who we’re supposed to be,” Shauna mused.
“Dunno ‘bout you Chaka, but it’s bait who I am,” Jade smirked, looking down at her ankle swinging black trousers and thick white sports socks.
“Errmm isn’t it just,” Shauna sniffed.
“Well, we’ve got a table prepared for you and your guests in the V.I.P area.
Please help yourself to some nibbles from our buffet and don’t forget to make good use of your unlimited free drinks pass,” Elissa said scribbling something on her clipboard.
Simultaneously winking at each other, Jade and I rubbed our hands together in glee.
“Here, put one of these on.”
Elissa handed each one of us a fluorescent green wrist band.
“Make sure you keep ‘em on folks, otherwise you won’t be allowed free drinks or access in and out of the V.I.P section I’m afraid,” Elissa warned, flicking wisps of her long dark hair out of her smooth olive toned face.
“Cheers Elissa.” Johanna smiled.
Following Johanna’s lead, we marched along the red carpet.
“Smile for the cameras ladies!” demanded some scrawny scruff pot of a photographer, who had suddenly blocked our way.
“…And vogue,” Johanna directed.
Posing with the stature of certified divas and making peace signs with our hands, the girls and I gave our best paparazzi pouts whilst the cameras flashed away.
“Talk about celebrity status,” I laughed.
[Continues Next Week…]