Mirror ball throwing shimmering pieces of light all over the old brick walls. Music echoing, bouncing against the brick, concrete floors and ceiling pipes. Strobe lights flashing bright streaks into the centre of the dance floor. Groups of sweet-sixteen girls, in white jeans and sleeveless t-shirts, dancing, doing the hustle to “Car Wash”. Boys with mullets or “fros”, and platform shoes watching from tiny tables scattered along the perimeter, between slipping outside to have a smoke and a boot-legged beer. This was as exotic an atmosphere as one could hope for in our small rural town on a frigid January night. Some teenage guy had an extensive record collection, a decent stereo system, a few Radio Shack gizmos, and enough cash to rent out the basement of the “Old Brick School” to fulfill his vision of “Saturday Night Fever” with a $3.00 admission we were only too willing to pay.
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After a long summer hiatus I am back with another piece of bite-size memoir. (Memoir in a 150 word “bite”, no more, no less!)
If you would like to know more about the bite-size memoir project, or Lisa Reiter who initiated it, please check out her blog:
http://sharingthestoryblog.wordpress.com/2014/09/08/goals-or-should-that-be-gaols/#more-1640