Elton John’s Early Adventures

, , , , , | Friendly | February 15, 2020

(Two friends and I are the tender age of 18 and decide to go out clubbing for the first time. We find a club, we party, we drink… waaaaay too much. We decide to leave but can barely make it down the stairs. I have a vague recollection of someone shouting, “Call an ambulance!”, but us shooing them away saying we are fine. So, there we are, standing at the edge of the main street of the busy clubbing area, dozens of people walking past us, with no idea how to proceed as we are all too trashed to even work out how to get home. After a while, a man dressed in sparkly trousers, crazy yellow glasses, and a white furry coat, carrying a speaker and another couple of large bags, comes to talk to us.)

Man: “Are you guys heading somewhere?”

Us: “Yeah, we just need to get home.”

Man: “You look like you’ve had a big night. Where are you heading?”

Us: “[Suburb].”

Man: “Okay, well, if you don’t mind coming via [Other Suburb 15 minutes from ours], we can share a cab, and then I can drive you home.”

Us: *with, apparently, no idea about personal safety* “Oh, that would be so good. Thank you!”

Man: “It’s all good. I’m a DJ; I’ve just been playing at [Nearby Club]. I see people like you guys all the time; it’s kind of refreshing. I’m happy to help.”

(He gets us a cab, loads his stuff in the back, opens the passenger door for us and gets in the front. We try to be polite and ask about his DJ-ing, but none of us can make much coherent conversation. We get to his place and get out of the cab, which he jumps in to pay for before any of us can offer.)

Man: “If you guys just want to wait on the path, I’ll just get my gear inside and get the car.”

(He returned in five minutes with his car, we piled in the back seat and gave him the address, again trying unsuccessfully to converse, and we were soon at our destination, all of us trying not to fall asleep or vomit. We got out, the man wished us well and drove off, and we all somehow managed to get into the flat and collapse on the floor for the next ten hours. Twenty years later, my friend and I still refer to this man as “the angel.” We couldn’t remember his DJ name so we were never able to track him down and soberly thank him or pay for the cab fare. Our night could have ended horrifically. We were unbelievably lucky to have such a nice, honest, decent bloke come to our aid in our moment of need. He never even said anything to make fun of us for our predicament — which would have been totally warranted. The world needs less drunk teenage idiots and more blokes like this guy.)

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