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Edited on Thu Jan-27-11 03:46 PM by MiddleFingerMom
. . . Although it is a remarkable demonstration of the fact that if ANYTHING deserved dyin'... DISCO deserved dyin'. . . . 1979 or so, I got a job tending bar in a THRIVING icon of a bar in my hometown that was only open Thurs-Sat nights, seated about 350 and had lines out the door every night due to the great live rock-and-roll they'd book. . . . The new owners (3 great though idiotic businessmen and a real dickhead of an attorney -- I'd STILL bet this was his idea) decided they could do better with a disco (none of the pesky live band payout overhead cost). . . . Disco had died long before -- and had even recently died in smalltown Midwest (where we were at) . . . They went from 500+/night to about 15 people per night -- there were times when staff outnumbered customers. They spent $40,000 on a Saturday Night Fever-style lighted dance floor and (admittedly) a KILLER sound system. Turned out the whole freakin' staff -- even the DJ -- hated disco (except for an otherwise cool manager). When the few customers would leave, we'd crank up The Stones or The Allman Brothers or something similar to get the taste of disco out of our ears. . . . The ONLY saving grace about disco was the women involved -- they REALLY put an effort into their appearance and wardrobe... and most were excellent dancers. . . . Don't get me started about Nancy -- 6 feet of gorgeous strawberry blonde goddess. We'd dance a lot during my breaks... back when the trend was for the women to hump the thigh(s) of the males. . . . . . . . . . . . Suddenly... I kinda miss ol' disco. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I'll be in my bunk. . . .
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