The Time That We Went Clubbing In Central London

It's my birthday, I'm at uni, T-Pain has just dropped the song Low and Usher was steaming up the charts with Love In This Club. The days been perfect. I linked my girl earlier in the day, got my Jeremiah on and now the mandem are on their way round. Once they arrive everyone's on a hype, I remain the champion of Pro Evo (who even remembers Pro Evo, that got dropped like a bad habbit, shout out to London FC and Man Red ). I dead a few man at Street Fighter and we pre-drink like Jesus was doing the catering (He wasn't, I paid for it) after all only suckkas buy drinks in the club right...#studentlife.

I had decided that I was gonna do it big this year, so I was steering well away from the SU Bar. I had been putting some hard graft into my retail job and had the shekels to prove it. My student card would know no bounds tonight (well, it definitely would), I made sure I was going to shine, nothing could stop us. It's was always going to be a Leicester Square ting.

Just before we set off, there are 6 of us by the way, all lads of the chocolate or curry persuasion, we all know the drill but a reminder is always welcomed. So we run through the obligatory checklist before slamming my front door shut in a pursuit to paint the proverbial town red.
"Everyman got shoes yeah" check, "oi, you man got your Id's" check, "you got a shirt on, with a collar and dat" check. "Ok, everyman got shoes..." I notice my front door slam shut as one person hastily runs back to his place to change his footwear, he was visibly frustrated with himself, after all he knew the procedure inside out, we've been doing it for years.

If you didn't own a pair of these between 11 - 16 years old, you had no status in life

He arrives after a short absence, out of breath, brandishing what looks like shoes we had previously seen before. "I swear you used to wear those in school" one claims.
"And church!" another interrupts.
"Yeah, hard times innit" he replies. We all laugh at his efforts and then he quickly retorts, "Well your girlfriend likes them". We burst out laughing and stagger intoxicated out of the door.
"We need to get there before 10, you know what these places are like" I assert. We frantically look my the watch...another voice panics, "did you put us on the guestlist...ahh man the guestlist!". Anyone would think we were illegals going through immigration.

We arrive in Leicester square in high spirits, we can see the night club in the near distance and gather around to finalise our plan, we are close enough to see the bright lights of the club but far enough so that we are out of the bouncers view. The club stands like an oasis in a desert as drones of people gravitate towards it.

I tighten my belt and take control. Getting into a nightclub in Central London is hard enough as it is, never mind when you're on the darker side of the colour spectrum. So we treat it is like a military operation. "Right!" I exclaim authoritatively. Everyone listens, ears perched, awaiting their orders, "every one act sober, we are going to go in two groups of three, no... wait three groups of two, everyone nods approvingly. "Make sure they (the bouncers) don't see you drinking, make sure they don't see us together, make sure you stand next to girls...make sure..." the list goes on. After ticking off our endless check list we still don't expect to get in but feign confidence so that we don't ruin the moral of our fellow soldiers.

"Follow the plan or else"

We cue up, attempting to be inconspicuous, hearts racing as the bouncer walks up and down the queue inspecting us like cattle, he walks up once, then back on himself, then disappears into the night. We are ecstatic, we have survived the first examination.

30 minutes later me and my partner are at the front of the queue, I glance back down the queue, hi-fiving the rest of the squadron with only the smile on my face, ensuring I keep my composure. They get the message and look on filled with hope. The plan to strategically space ourselves out in the queue and communicate primarily through BBM, seemed to had worked.

Until....."Not tonight lads" the bouncer chuffed as he aggressively lifts the up-stand barricade to lead us back onto the cold hard concrete.
"Huh, why" I shout in disbelief.
"You haven't got any girls", isn't that the point, I say to myself, we're here to meet girls, who brings sandwiches to a buffet after all. "gahh I knew it!" one of my friends huffs as he sees us get turned away. He leaves the queue and the other 2 company's relinquish their spot in the queue to joins us, all for one and one for all after all.

We stare at each other dejected, looking for a reason for our rejection "Of course we didn't get in" one complained, "it's cos you've got a beard like bin laden!"
"huh! what about you?" one replies, "You're wearing a woolly hat and one Nike golf glove, like you're 16 and on your way to the youth centre"
"Nah, he saw his shoes and wanted to save you from asking for forgiveness in the morning" Another chuckles.
"Ha, nope, it's because you're so black, you look like an unlocked game character"
Once again we all burst out laughing and continue walking away attempting to regain our confidence by taking our frustrations out on the nightclub, whilst simultaneously consoling each other,"it looks dead in there anyway" we mutter to ourselves (it didn't). "Anyway who wants to pay £20 to get into a club, that's my weekly shopping!"

He knows

As we walk away, we glance back over our shoulder one last time and notice three Essex boys in Polo's and comb overs walk straight past our once hostile bouncer and directly into the establishment. We shake our heads in disbelief, after seeing the injustice I go back to the bouncers to confront them, but my friends hold me back and persuade me it's not worth it.

We spent the next 2 hours wandering aimlessly around London receiving rejection upon rejection. we were now, sober, cold, miserable, hungry and had missed the last train home. If we didn't have a friend who did not take no for an answer we would have went home frustrated, but due to this guys incessant hope and positivity we tried to get into a fourth club. I repeat fourth! Who the hell does that. We ultimately get in and had the time of our life, long forgetting our previous misfortune.

I would have forgotten this experience if it wasn't for the article below. It made me realise that so many us take this as a norm but it really shouldn't be. To be refused entry because of race or gender is illegal. I'm happy that this dark norm has finally had light shone upon it and as a result I will never be refused entry again. Check out the link below for more info on your rights and leave your comments below.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-32883122