The deceasing Swan

Last Saturday we again went out to celebrate our freedom and youth. The place we therefore chose was, as it turned out, maybe not exactly the right place for that. The Swan in Bolton – Churchgate, has been introduced to us as a pleasant little club by one of our Leipzig compatriots. And to be honest I cannot even prosecute him for that statement. It was not that big, the music was 80s style and paradoxically not too bad (it was actually the first club where I’ve ever been that played “The Suggarhill Gang – Rappers delight”, swear you guys, this song is awesome! But I really needed to keep myself under control as the ‘DJ’ – I don’t even think he would entitle himself that – cut it off after only 5 minutes!!).


However, I think I will never visit this place again. I just can’t help myself but I felt bloody out of place. Without Sandra and Manu and maybe that one cute bartendress I would have possibly been the youngest of at least 50 folks!

But maybe my picture of the Swan is obfuscated. I only went there once and as I just heard that the avian flu reached Holton how long can it take from an H to a B, I mean it’s only those little six letters! And a Swan is for sure a remunerative aim. Suggesting, if I was a bird flu I of course would not vilify an old Swan and to go the whole hog, the DJ and some of the *hemming* ‘clubbers’ neither.

But, thank goodness, we did not need to stay too long and I could finally place one of my new favourites:

“Screw you guys, I’m going home! – Screw, home!”
kbo