You know how I once said I love to write posts that are for me? Well here’s one. An entire post that pays homage to some of the best (and most hideous) years of my life.
Because you’ll only get this if you lived in Worthing as a young frivilous adult between 2007 and 2011. It was a grand time to be alive. Before the council shut down the club or whatever.
So soz, devout blog readers – this one’s for 18-year-old Hannah.
Here’s the things you’ll only know if you went to The Pier nightclub every Thursday night…
1. The pain of getting the train into town only to have to walk for about 15 minutes to get close to any bars. WHY IS THE TRAIN STATION NOT EVEN FUCKING CLOSE TO ANYTHING OF USE?
2. Then having to queue for another 15 minutes just to get a drink in Spoons, but who even cares because OMG you know everyone in here. Aside from that man that always sat at the front who used to be in Eastenders and was now a pervert or summat.
3. Ordering two pitchers for £8. Probably both WooWoo, because that half a litre of vodka you had before you left the house probs wasn’t enough.
4. Leaving a friend throwing up over themselves in the loo, because they’ll be fine. This is Worthing guys, we all know each other, nothing bad could ever possibly happen. Nope.
5. Marching on to Que Pasa for cocktails and Reefs because you be so hella fancy. But wait, it’s kind of boring in here? And also, are those girls eviling you? Did you do something last week that you can’t remember. Oh you.
6. Then deciding that YES YOU NEED ALL THE £1 SHOTS from Bar Release. You’ll order three, no wait, make it five. You’re out of control.
7. Someone trying to hand you a flyer to Liquid Lounge and laughing in their face. Wondering if they have the most pointless job in the entire world. Nope, nothing can stop you getting to your second home, nothing.
8. Walking arm in arm with someone you sort of vaguely know that you bumped into outside Bar Release. Stopping to take selfies on your Nokia slide phones. Discussing rumours that Debenhams *might* be turning into a Primark – but OMG how good that would be?
9. Then you’re there. You’re at The Pier. You’ve arrived early to save yourself some money on the door. You get your heel stuck on the wooden floor. You try and convince the doormen you’re not drunk. No, honestly. Then you remember it doesn’t matter – they know you, they usher you in like old friends. Your heart melts with happiness <3
10. You jump on the buggy to ride to the end of the pier. The wind is in your hair. You feel a bit like you’re at a theme park. You think about how exciting life is.
11. Spotting the burger cart and thinking, yeah, yeah I could go for an 11pm second dinner right about now. Drunkenly flirting with the burger man and hoping he’ll just let you have a free burger because YOLO you’re so hot.
12. You buy yourself two VKs and spend the entire night boogying down with one in each hand like a right bad bitch.
13. Then when you’ve finished with them you casually throw them behind you whilst you dance. But there’s always that one friend who gets a bit over excited and throws it over their head and gets escorted to the exit. BUT IT’S A PLASTIC BOTTLE, COME ON GUYS, BE NICE, LET ‘EM STAY.
14. Someone you don’t really know jumps on your back, you lose your balance, you fall to the ground in a heap of about 10 people in the middle of the dance floor. You get up and continue grinding to a Chris Brown tune.
15. But wait, you’re a bit bored? Maybe you’ll leave your real friends and do a loop of The Pier to find some other fun people. Then just spending about 82 per cent of the night just walking round in circles looking for someone to hang with.
16. Every week thinking OMG UPSTAIRS IS OPEN. It’s not open. You get told off for trying to climb the stairs. Feeling deep sadness in your soul.
17. Genuinely never feeling sexier or sassier than when you were dancing against the stage railings. You’re owning the club, yeah you are.
18. Going to the loo and discussing the overwhelming poo smell with complete strangers. No, but like, why is it THIS stinky?
19. Thinking it would be hilarious to ask the DJ to do a fake shout out for your friend’s 30th birthday. Because imagine, imagine you were 30 years old and in a club, OMG HILARIOUS. Ha. Oh.
20. Silently judging all the people who spent the majority of the evening sat on the seats out back. Like what’s even the point, guys? Come boogie.
21. Going outside and looking for people in the smoking area. Ending up chain smoking for an hour with someone you think you *may* have met once before.
22. Standing by the railings and watching the sea and thinking about how theraputic it would be to throw your phone over the side. But oh wait, is that You Got The Love playing inside? Maybe another time.
23. Going away to uni and telling everyone that your favourite nightclub at home was on a pier. But no, seriously guys, an actual fucking pier. Like, can you even imagine it?
24. Purposely buying shoes with straps so that come about 1am you could just take your shoes off and tie them to your bag. Spending the rest of the night barefoot and not giving a single fuck.
25. Being absolutely ravenous by the time 3am came around and making a beeline to Subway. Yes, you’ll get a foot long and yes, maybe some nachos and no, you won’t be able to eat it in your taxi, but you’ll attempt to anyway. But maybe you should sit on the steps to the Guildbourne Centre and at least have a few bites first?
26. Waking up on a Friday morning and heading straight to McDonald’s to dissect the evening’s events. Because obviously. Maybe doing a tactical vom before tucking into your Big Mac.
27. Getting tagged in albums from people you swear you’ve never met in your life. Oh wait, or maybe did you do a wee together?
28. Wondering if you should do it all again on Saturday night, even if it is just the old people that still refer to it as Rutherfords and Lush that go out on a Saturday. Definitely doing it all again on Saturday night.
29. Bumping into people you only know from The Pier in sober daylight and not knowing whether to hide from them and avoid awkwardness or try and be real life friends with them too. Choosing the first option.
30. Eight years on, still having 50 per cent of your Facebook friends as people you pretty much only know from night’s out in Worthing. Seeing they now have children. Wondering at what point you all got so fucking old. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.