Everything that has and will ever happen at Ocean
There will be VKs, lots of VKs.
- The time is 8pm. Someone is queuing for Ocean.
- Two girls lean over the railings to take a selfie with Andy Hoe. A quick scroll through Andy’s recent photos reveals these girls are in every single one of them for the past 5 weeks. Their devotion to Ocean is paramount, Hoe is their Idol and Ocean their church.
- Why is everyone in this queue so fucking weird? You’re sure these people aren’t inside when you’re dancing and having a great time, they just seem to exist in this ephemeral space, caught between two worlds. Perhaps it’s the girl who’s introduced herself to you 4 or 5 times, then asked how many people you’ve slept with this year. Maybe it’s the guy that’s offered to buy you a VK if you swap t-shirts. Whatever it is you don’t like it and the sooner you get in the better.
- Cock. You know where your ID is, it’s on your desk, next to that sandwich you’ve been meaning to throw out for days, the one thats a bit smelly and gross so you don’t want to touch it but that’s not so offensive you can’t deal with catching the odd wiff of it now and then. You need it here though, here with you, not next to your smelly sandwich. You start to perspire, drop a couple of buttons on the Topman Essentials shirt. There’s no way they’ll let you in. You’ve waited all this time, dealt with the freaks in the queue, spent hours tracking a ticket down on buy/sell and for what? The moment is upon you, you shakily announce to the bouncer that you left your ID at home and to your complete amazement he asks which hall you were in. An age seems to pass while you stand, open-mouthed, gazing at your new hero. “Derby”, you utter after about 12 years. A thumb swings towards the entrance, you’re in.
- The carpet is not in fact a carpet. It is a thick, red moss of bacteria.
- You’re really, really, really drunk.
- Fuck. You’re not drunk enough. You’re not drunk enough for Ocean and you need to be drunk enough for Ocean. The thick must in the entrance is suddenly intolerable. Is that ‘Let It Go’? Who actually enjoys this shit?! That guy’s just stood on your foot! He didn’t even apologise! What the fuck is wrong with people?! You’re miserable.
- Two VKs at once? Surely not.
- Shock. The queue for the girl’s toilet is inestimably long. Girls pile out of cubicles like clowns out of tiny cars. Any longer than thirty seconds and a barrage of fists and shrill screeches come flying down on the cubicle door. The girl’s toilet is where hygiene goes to die, you can forget about sink space, break out the hand sanitiser and move on.
- Shock. There’s no queue for the men’s. You have a piss in the giant piss trough and everything’s fine.
- Some classic jokers will ruin your squad photo and you’ll be annoyed about it.
- Why is Medic’s bar a thing? Actually, why is it even called Medic’s bar? It’s like they’ve just forgot it was there and have never bothered to close it off, are the bar staff there even employed by anyone? The decor is even worse than normal. Bar stools. Fucking bar stools and tables! Littered haphazardly around the room. Why? Who’s just chilling in an Ocean side room, sipping on a shaken martini while the entire rest of the club is screaming noughties pop anthems? It’s just fucking weird.
- Despite complaining constantly about the wet wipes that take selfies with Andy Hoe, you take a selfie with Andy Hoe and are extremely pleased with it. He definitely likes you better anyway.
- Someone in Karni Corner has just poured a shot in their eye. You’re glad you’re not one of them.
- You will have an argument with someone about which colour of VK is best (it’s blue).
- Not another two VKs?
- Is this a smoking area or a cattle shed? Surely they can afford proper fences to put round here. I feel like I’m on a construction site, just with more people crying and smoking. At least it’s still a trillion times better than Crisis.
- You’ve missed One Dance again. Every week you wait for DJ Steve to drop Drake’s new banger and as soon as you nip out for a cheeky fag, it comes on. You and James even practiced the routine in the kitchen. You sulk back in. “You missed it AGAIN!”, yeah, I fucking know James.
- You will find a stray piece of fancy dress on the dance floor and wear it proudly for the entirety of the night.
- You have a spot. You dance in that spot. You drink in that spot. You do not leave your spot.
- The people too cool to dance are upstairs again, just like they were last week and they will be next week.
- David actual-fucking Hasselhoff might turn up https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tas47U4VzjA
- I’LLLLLL BE THEREEEEE, FOREVER AND ALWAYSSSS, I’M ALWAYSSSSS HEREEEEEE!!!!!!!
- Baywatch. You’re swinging your sweat-stained t-shirt round your head without a care in the world. Wait. It’s gone. Your t-shirt’s fucking gone. Oh shit. You frantically scour the floor around you for any sign of it. The rest of your group don’t realise; they’re still jumping, stupid grins on their faces, tirelessly whipping you in the face with their own tops. It’s cool though, you’ve still got your blazer.
- THREE VKs!!!!!
- You will have a great time. To paraphrase the Cheers theme song:
You wanna go where people know,
people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows
You wanna go to Ocean.