Mitsubishi's

Chapter Three - Mitsubishis

'La Table Chaude' was brimming. Sharp suited office clerks made
pretense whilst girls dressed up in the latest garb from designer
boutiques sipped spritzers and exotic cocktails concocted for maximum
alcoholic absorption. Acid Jazz tunes echoed out from discreet speakers
disguised as works of art; the minimalist decor of chrome and pine aped
the ascendant style of the city's trend spots. Kev looked around the
place with some disgust. It had been a while since he'd been into town
and even longer on a night out.
Things had changed dramatically, traditional English boozers replaced
with glitzy theme bars, and they'd even converted an old church into a
chill-out cafe. As he'd passed it he was taken by surprise as a Tom
Jones remix blasted out from what once was the vestry.
The girls had yet to arrive, they'd skipped going to Neil's first as
he'd had a bit of a tiff with Amy his girlfriend, apparently she was
none to happy about Sophie Sapphire's coming along. Brad had managed to
give Leah the slip as well, it was to be a proper lads night out. Kev
sipped his bottle of imported lager slowly whilst his two accomplices
made alternate trips to the toilets returning with pupils dilate and
nostrils flared.
Brad was gesticulating wildly over at the far corner of the bar, to two
tanned princesses - he'd probably be trying to peddle some pills to
them and tempt them to go to Meltpot with him, as he could get them in
on the guest list.
"Look at him, always guided by his lower power is Brad. Got to hand it
to him though those two bird are certainly hot to trot," Neil
commentated from the table, "Do ya want another beer fetching? Yeah -
I'll get them in, as the girls should be here in a moment. I hope they
hurry up; I'm itching to get a couple of pills down my neck. Best to
wait till' after we've eaten though. I don't want to start coming up in
the middle of dessert - eyes rolling up in the back of my head, telling
everybody in the restaurant how much I love them. You'll see what I get
like, all in good time, matey."
More lager was swilled as they waited. It had got to the stage where
Kev was considering leaving, but just at that moment the little posse
from the training department turned up. There was Sharon Oates, Beth
Jones who'd come with a waif like companion named Heather, Samantha
Morley who was Trev's daughter and worked in human resources and let us
not forget last but not least the voluptuous - the beautiful Sophie
Sapphire.
"Hurrah," cried Brad, "here at last. We thought you'd forgotten all
about us."
Neil who was wired up like a baboon now from all the coke he'd snorted
then interrupted, "Ladies, ladies - Look at them aren't they fine?" as
he made a grandiose gesture with his arms. "What are we drinking
tonight?" He took down their order and shuffled over to the bar,
occasionally sniffing and rubbing his nose whilst he waited.
Soon everyone had ordered and was tucking into 'Le Table Chaud's'
nouvelle cuisine, imbibing wines and chatting away. As Neil would say
things were 'nice.' Neil and Brad rambled on sometimes entertainingly,
but sometimes getting carried away in cocaine fueled conversation.
However, after a couple more bevies Kev had begun to enjoy himself. The
alcohol revived his confidence and as he was the least addled of the
three; he started to take control of the table. Sophie Sapphire was in
stitches after he told her of how he'd found Karen &; Mike in their
rather compromising position in his master bedroom, it didn't really
bother him that much now he'd learnt that you had to laugh about these
things or sink under.
As the meal was finished, Neil cajoled and coaxed the group into going
to Meltpot - there was some wicked DJs playing he'd told everyone and
as he played there himself on alternate weeks entrance would be free
for them all. Everyone was dressed the part in clubbing gear apart from
Kev, who was wearing a knitted woolen jumper.
"You won't get in like that, Kev," Sophie laughed at him. Brad saved
the day though producing from his shoulder bag a tight-fitting T-shirt
with the word 'Addikt' printing in bold font on the front. Kev slipped
it on to everyone's amusement.
"You can't be serious! This isn't really my style at all. I'll have to
go home and get changed."
"Don't be ridiculous man, you look smooth man, smooth like a dude,"
Neil reassured him.
It was Sophie who convinced him as she whispered in his ear, her breath
warm on his face, "Very sexy, Kevin. It really suits you!"
So the little troop were set, set for a night of clubbing, of drugging
and whatever else happens when bored office folk let their hair down.
After a week hard at work you find it everywhere the twenty something
generation slipping into hedonistic excesses. There's nothing that
transcends the mundane better than blitzing yourself on pills, dancing
the night away to a four to the floor beat - the loved-up spirituality
of dance culture at the end of a century. Up and down through the
streets of the city, through the crowds spilling out of the pubs and
bars as eleven o'clock came - calling the lighthearted the sensible
home to their beds and the brave and bashful on to the next stop, to
drugs and clubs to music and dance.

Sophie Sapphire is our femme fatale, beauty and wickedness embodied in
one. Hazel doe eyes with the flick of those long eyelashes say 'come to
bed.' Innocence and control are the games she plays - so do be careful,
don't get bitten. Luscious long raven hair almost down to her waist,
dressed in only the very best threads. She's one of those types that
can get away with wearing anything though and still she'll look like
she's walked straight out from a fashion shoot. Sophie as you probably
won't be surprised is big on her drugs. Whether its E's or whizz, crack
or smack, acid and dope or large measures of JD &; Coke she likes to
indulge. Likes getting wasted does our Sophe' but as she'll tell you
she's not an addict, not a bum. Never misses a day at work, always
manages the odd day of abstinence here or there - but the truth is and
she know this, is that she's damaged goods. Real loss of equilibrium at
times, real crazy, loses the plot big style on occasion. Sometimes
she'll blame it on her parents or on the many failed relationships
she's endured. The reality is that none of these things are to blame -
I suppose she's just a victim of modern life, modern times these awful,
dreadful days.
The other girls well they're a different sort. More 'straight-headed'
as Neil would say, aspiring to what we're told we should aspire to. A
nice house, flash motor, weekly shopping trips to the best
supermarkets, dining out in posh restaurants and steady
relationships.
Beth Jones is one of those really 'nice' people. A bit dull you could
call her as she's not cursed with the precociousness, the talent of a
Sophie - that's how she managed to rise through the ranks of mediocrity
at Dominion from data entry girl to training and development manager in
the space of a couple of years. Good luck to her Kevin thinks, Brad
would disagree but Kevin for one is envious of those that can slot in,
conform if you like and just get on with life. As for Sam, she's pretty
sorted too, but cleverly than that a real mover and shaker in the
career game. Likes to party hard as well though not adverse to the odd
chemical weekend here and there.
Lastly there's Sharon Oates the Broxtowe girl made good. Straight
talking and simplicity are the mottos she lives by. Problem is though
she really is as thick as pig-shit, another blessing Kev thinks as
being thick in his experience also means thick-skinned. We all could do
with another couple of layers living life at the very end of the
century.
Neil took charge as he led the group down the narrow streets of
Nottingham's historical Lace Market, once the hub of the fashion
industry and now the hub of the city's underground clubs and trendy
bars - the place where anyone who's anyone has to be seen.
The chug-a-chug-chug of hard house echoed from the rafters of Meltpot
as on his entrance the bouncers parted the crowds in the queue, Neil
always made a big thing about getting the V.I.P treatment when he hit
the town.
"Guest list mate," he rudely grunted to the youth behind the counter,
"Yeah, there's eight of us altogether. Oh and is Reidy around - What?
He's in the chill-out room, uh - wicked. I take it he's brought along
some of his little friends...........Nice"
Kev listened attentively, obviously some kind of drug talk he'd
gathered. He was getting a little thirsty now as the booze was
beginning to wear off a little, his blood alcohol concentration levels
starting to falter. Not normally one for drinking but now he needed
another drink and fast. As the others deposited coats and bags in the
cloakroom he took the stairs up to the bar, the throb of the music
driving him onwards.
Now inside the club the troop made their way into the mainroom. Neil
weaved in a out of the packed seating area adjacent to the dancefloor,
greeting his acquaintances from the scene with a host of 'Easy
tiger's,' 'Respects' and over the top handshakes. He was now in his
element, a good time he considered to get those pills down his
neck.
"Mr. Bowles-Prentice," he enunciated in his poshest voice as he made
his way over, clasping Brad on the shoulder, "I seem to have a problem.
Someone tells me you're the man who can help. Problem is I seem to have
a rather fat wrap of the purest Columbian nose powder, I also have a
credit card to cut it with but only three crumpled fivers - no good for
rolling up to snort with - where's the style in that."
Brad then whipped out a clean, crisp fifty from his wallet and within
nano-seconds had rolled it up into a convincing tube.
"Well then Mr. Alanis. If you would like to accompany me to the nearest
toilet cubicle I think you're little problem will be solved," and with
that the two slipped out like lovers eloping to their secret
rendezvous.
Our girls in the meanwhile were supping sangria from 10oz rocks
complimented with wedges of lemon and lime, sitting over a balcony over
looking the dancefloor.
"Look at 'im, duck," Sharon giggled pointing at the lanky youth dancing
near the DJ box who looked like he was having some kind of fit, arms
and legs all over the place.
Controlled, alert Samantha interjected to the others amusement, "Well,
I've heard of murder on the dancefloor, but that gives the whole thing
a new gist, very poignant - don't you think!"
Whilst the others laughed, Sophie's mind was on other things. Firstly,
she faced the dilemma of which of the blokes she'd try it on with.
Neil, well he was out the question she attention as she knew Amy his
girlfriend quite well. Not only that but he was far too short for her
tastes, Brad was cute though, gorgeous in fact - and as for Kevin, well
funnily enough she hadn't really noticed him before in the office. He
was quiet but funny she considered, not bad looking to boot. If only he
was just a little bit more 'streety', she liked a bloke who knew the
score and could treat a girl mean. Hmmm, someone who can tie you up and
whip you - oh no she remembered then started to laugh out loud as she
thought of poor Kevin finding Karen Davis trussed up like that with
that dreadful Mike from security.
Her second dilemma was more real, more pressing. She'd already sneaked
down half a pill, but it was one of those 'Versachis' she'd had left
over from last week. They were pants then and nothing much seemed to be
happening now. She knew that Neil had a reputation as a bit of an 'E'
head and yeah she could tell that he'd had something already speed or
coke most likely. I'll ask him, she vowed confidently to herself, if
Neil can't score for me then who bloody well can?
Down stairs in the chill-out rooms, Neil felt the surge of the first
rush from the pills.
"Wicked, I coming...........up Brad, nice....oh too nice. I'll be
battered before the night's out."
"Yeah, I've just started to get that tingling feeling up my spine,
right into the back of my neck. Christ, we'll have to get Kev to take
one of these muthas. What are they?"
"Mitsubishis - you know I only get the very best, Brad."
Back to the bar that's now three deep, Nottingham's good timers are
swelling the throngs, flirting and flowing to the underground sounds.
Deep house is being flaunted from the box, tanned girls dressed like
divas slink like lemurs in the corners. New lads talk of football,
pills and pussy in darkened corners - whilst Kev fresh drink in hand is
looking for his associates.
He moved over to the corner of the dancefloor, catching the eyes of a
pretty brunette who was moving across. He glanced down, as he wasn't in
the mood for it. Where was everyone he thought - now concerned, as he
didn't want to be left out on a limb in this strange new world. He
noticed the people around the place, at the bar, sitting down, on the
dancefloor - jaws in spasm, eyes rolling he'd never realized how far
drugs had proliferated. At uni, yes they'd been many guys and girl he
known that smoked weed, but all these pills, 'ecstasy' or whatever they
were he hardly knew anyone who took those. Class As he considered were
the type of drugs that were only taken by the scumbags, the dossers and
no-hopers who seemed intent on destroying themselves. 'Meltpot' opened
his eyes; it seemed now that he was the social deviant by not indulging
in anything. Whatsmore everyone seemed to be having such a great time.
There was none of the casual petty violence and intimidation that he'd
observed in the cheesy townie clubs from beered-up blokes. Last club
he'd been to was like that. 'Prancer's' it was called a place so truly
dreadful he'd resolved never to set foot in a club ever again. This was
different though - not a meat-market or cop-off shop, just a lot of
people and a lot of drugs - who all seemed to be having a fantastic
time.
Meanwhile we go back to Sophie who's managed to find Brad and Neil
staggering around in the downstairs room.
"Well, Sophie - I'm well and truly battered."
"Yes and Brad's totally mashed up as well. Monged out's given a whole
new meaning - how many of those pills has he taken - Five, christ he's
hardcore. I only want three, two for now and one for a bit later if we
can find anything else that's on after this place closes up."
"We'll have to go upstairs and I'll sort them out for ya Sophe. I'm
para that one of the blokes over there is drug squad. I was sitting
there rolling my eyes in the back of my head and he starts making these
signs with his hands, like I know all about you and what you're on and
made out the letters DS - DS for drugs squad."
"Don't be silly you para cat. Quick let's get upstairs and sort out
these pills. They're wicked you say? Has Mr. Dooley taken one - I
haven't seen him for ages. We'll go and find him after and we'll ensure
that he has a great time - won't we?"
The two conspirators made their way up the winding iron staircase
onwards and upwards towards the pounding beats.
"Who Keeps Changing Your Mind?" by the South Street Players is spinning
out from the decks, dancefloor now swelling packed with moving bodies
taken prisoner to the vibe. They wind Kev on the perimeter of the
floor, he's looking quite contented, if little pissed as he cradles his
sixth bottle of Michelob.
"Way hey Dooley. Where have you been all this time. Weaseling women no
doubt - look at him trying to look so innocent. He's a dark one though
really, it's all an act," Neil grabs hold of him, wanting to him
embrace him, to kiss him as another rush from the pills washes over
him.
"Are you OK, Kev," Sophie shouts in his ear, he wished she wouldn't get
so close. He looks at her face enamoured by her beauty but he notices
how starry and far away looking her eye's are. She's on something as
well, he tells himself - shocked, surprised he had never imagined how
many people took ecstasy without any fear. Perhaps he'd been wrong
about drugs and they were really no big deal at all, well that's how it
seemed now.
She looked into his eyes, she seemed so radiant, so happy - her jaw was
beginning to grate a little, facial muscles tensed but this just added
to her otherworldliness, her majestic beauty. She pulled him towards
her and wishpered in his ear, "Listen, Kev," the pill was really now
kicking in pulling her towards exuberance, towards infinite love, "I've
just scored some pills from Neil........We'll they're absolutely
wicked. Christ, god - they're the best I think I've ever had. I've got
one spare for you if you want, go on have one they're Mitzi's. They're
simply wonderful."
Kev tried to look away from her to focus on something else. He glanced
around for Neil, but it looked like he was having an inane conversation
with somebody he'd just bumped into.
Sophie tugged at him, "Kev, are you listening. There's nothing to be
scared of. Just take half at first if you want, please for me. I just
want everyone to have a good time - you don't want to miss out."
He didn't know whether it was the beers or Sophie's charms that were
melting away his resolve his antipathy to the idea altogether was being
replaced by excitement, would he take one? He looked over at Neil
again, he was out of his face. Eye's rolling, and grinning like a
moron, but oh so very, very happy. No wonder they call it
ecstasy.
He felt Sophie's soft warm touch as she then pressed something into his
hand.
Kevin pulled around to face her, then opening his hand he examined the
tiny white pill more closely. He turned it over and could just make out
the little Mitzubishi logo etched on it's surface. Sophie smiled that
smile of hers and touched his arm in reassurance. He reached for his
bottle of beer then tossing the little pill into his mouth. As he took
a swig of beer to wash it down, he then wiped his mouth. It was strange
but he didn't feel scared at all, perhaps this was to be a turning
point for him. He'd finally lose his uptight angst and fears.
South Street Players still spinning out all around "Who? Keeps Changing
your mind........changing you mind..........changing......."- if there
was anyone that could have changed his mind it was Sophie Sapphire. She
reached over and hugged him as Neil, ambled back towards them.
Well the deed was done now, might as well make the most of it, Kev told
himself. Sophie broke the news to Neil who them came over and shook his
hand.
"Welcome to planet 'E', Kev................no turning back now!"

Steve Thomas, Oldbury, West Midlands.
Word Count 3,367.
8th July 2002.