Nightclubs by their very nature are melting pots for people from all different walks of life, classes and creeds; a space where people can dance, connect and have the time of their lives. However, you’re still likely to run into carbon copies of the same few people in every nightclub across the world and here’s the Stereotypical tips for spotting these clubnight ever-presents….
The first person you’re guaranteed to encounter on your night of clubbing is a member of the species known as the doorman. Typically uncommunicative unless driven to anger the bouncer is most usually a hulking slab of a man dressed head to toe in funereal black who is a big fan of UFC and the films of Guy Ritchie. Probably. Although that scenario is quite likely one would think. Would be very hard to imagine him reading Sartre on a park bench while drinking coffee from a thermos. The bouncer uses his tough guy demeanor to take upon himself the responsibility of deciding who can and cannot enter the club. A simple way to determine those who are guaranteed entry and those who aren’t is by the presence or absence of tits. Have tits and you’re basically guaranteed entry. Which is a policy we can’t really fault in fairness.
Perhaps the most important person in the room is the DJ. Even if they aren’t the most important person in the room at a given time they will still, however, believe that they are. The DJ is very obvious to spot. He’s the dude behind the decks. The typical DJ looks like an idealised Topshop version of a bloke bedecked in a deep necked wife beater, tattoos and skinny jeans. You may also notice something on his upper lip. That’s a fashionable moustache. He’ll also have some kind of parting in his immaculately coiffed hair which will jar against the scruffy moustache leaving the bottom half of his face at odds with the top. Like a businessman sensibly dressed in a suit and tie but with his cock hanging out.
No dance music club would be the same without that one dude that is totally off his fucking nut. You know the dude. He’s the one making a taster menu of his own face while wandering around the room with a spaced out look in his eyes and a noticeable unsteadiness in his gait. Head and arms moving haphazardly like a Down’s syndrome puppet who’s had his strings snipped. Try not to engage this poor chap in conversation lest you get sweated on and have to bear witness to a litany of senseless mind dribble.
That’s just three of the perpetual pillars of nightclub land, more next week!!
