Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Working in "The Closet": July 2001

With going back to London in three months time as a clear goal on my mind I start looking for a job like crazy. So I end up, just by chance, working as a bouncer in a gay club called "the closet".

There are no goth clubs here. There are a couple of metal bars and some alternative, hippy-ish punk places but nowhere to dress up in black AND wear tons of make up.

Also, spanish goth people have high sexual engines. Not because gothness does that to people, but the other way round. Long story short, I am already quite familiar with the gay scene because scary people with fishnet t-shirts and lots of make up had only one scene where they could go. It also had something to do with the "Sinister" scene (how the post-punk people used to call themselves in the eighties). With a very few exceptions, "Sinister" guys were gay and sinister girls were either bisexual or lesbians.

I belong a bit more to the goth metal scene, which was starting to be heard of, but I am probably one of the five or six men in the entire city that were into that kind of music. And to make it worse, all the female counterparts like men with long hair. I have no hair, by the way.

So there go three months working at the door of the place. My bosses are fantastic. A couple who,I have the suspicion, are swingers. He had lots of children in the past from a previous marriage and now, grown up men, are working for him in a number of clubs. They are kind people who look after the staff like they are family.

And what happened to the girl who moved with me to Somerset? She stayed there for those two weeks and a half that I spent in london and then she decided to come back to Spain.

I think she was hurt that I never announced her as my girlfriend. I never told her I loved her. We were shagg baddies and I made it very clear at the beginning. I think she assumed she could change the roles but it didn't work. There were too many little bits and bobs here and there that made me feel she wasn't a good person. I thought I had left the thing as "friendship" but next time I saw her in spain she handed me a letter she sent back to my ex, pretty much crucifying me for not being emotionally reachable.

Next thing I know she has gone back to that worm of her ex boyfriend and there is a gang looking for me around the city loaded with knives and having the clear intention of stabbing me to death, probably out of making up a lie about whatever. She really didn't take it well that I wasn't into getting married to her or something. I really don't know and I really don't care.

Anyway, I am working at the door and I get introduced to a nice girl called Susan. She is sixteen and although she looks very posh she hangs around with all my geekiest friends and she seems like fun. She is very attractive and I definitely have to try to get in her pants. Not literally, though.

My work at "The closet" is easy. I always have my honesty as a flag. If somebody just looks too dodgy to come in I tell him or her bluntly "sorry, you don't look like they expect from the clientele in this place and I don't want to get in trouble and lose my job". I never even had to be rude to anybody, for three months. I never had to use my second line "Don't even try again because you are not going inside".

I also have to keep away kids who "have come out of the closet but want to get in back, as, inside the club". Under aged gay kids are loud, I'm telling you, but they are easy to manage too.

Overall, nights go quiet while I wait for the date I'm going back to that city I'm so captivated about.

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