This week a few of us went to the AWB Kickbackwards Dome's nightclub, The Locker Room for a bit of post game gloating. After a 12 goal win it seemed the most sensible thing to do.
To get in we had to struggle through the throngs of Joffa hanger-ons singing his songs outside. Nerds and reprobates the lot of them. Love Collingwood and all but fark, I'm so over Joffa and his disturbed lookin' mates. Watching them celebrate a win is like being let into a band camp (as in there was this one time at band camp) five year reunion. Tedious as all fark.
But when it comes to disturbance, Joffa's brood has nothing on the clientel at The Locker Room. More on that in a second.
First we gotta realise The Locker Room is a nightclub in a football stadium. I'll repeat it. A nightclub in a football stadium.
Bad disco, Coogar Girls (yes, they do exist) and a hundred televisions playing the footy replay is a mixed up little paradise. The occasion is punctuated by the DJ sparking up the winning team's club song every twenty minutes. If he slackens off, the patrons start off their own rendition, over the top of Madonna's Ray Of Light.
Now for the clientel. I have an extremely good looking, intelligent and funny mate who met a longtime girlfriend half time during a Collingwood game at The Locker Room. The next time I see him I'm going to throttle him.
How could you meet the potential love of your life at the fricken Locker Room? One of our group discretely whispered to me, "The girls here are.... ahem.... a bit plain aren't they?" And the guys were at best portly but on the most part gobsmackingly enormous.
At least they loved singing Good Old Collingwood Forever and what the heck, each one of the humungous, official clubwear wearing pissheads is part of my brood.
I'm off to the bar. Anyone want another Coogar? Two pies, hotdog and chips perhaps?