*The scene*
Scorching heat, blinding light and deafening music: the place to go with a date you neither want to look at nor speak to.

*The beats*
Camel Beats may seem like a survival trip through the desert, but the keen dancer will find an oasis of musical bliss: this is indeed techno, of the kind that will elevate you into higher spheres of pure dancing. You'll forget the bleak surrounding and smelly crowd and immerse yourself into opulent, vitalising beats. Every now and then the DJ feels the need to draw attention to himself as the creator of transcendental emotions. He slows down to a tantra-like techno, arrests your flowing movement and waits for the crowd to shout for more. A master-slave relation, there is no doubt about that.

*The hump*
Don't depend on the DJ to sustain your pleasure, you also need water bottles to keep you going. Experienced camel-goers thoroughly identify with the night's motto and carry water bottles in their baggy trousers (yes, they are still in their teens).

*The second hump*
Following the male camel's attempt to impress the female camel with huge humps, the men carry as many water bottles on them as possible. It's a great way to make friends and potentially be grabbed by a dehydrated person of the other sex. Back to basics once more.

*location*: converted church, heathen aspect of this ungodly act is heightened by the presence of an impressive stuffed moose at the entrance and a prehistoric bird of prey over the bar.

*crowd*: flamboyant, hip-swinging hedonists.

*atmosphere*: missed that trip to the Caribbean, here you go!

*music*: DJ not only provides us with a combination fo funky grooves, old-school hip hop but also helps us to make the world a better place. His short but nevertheless concise message: 'Peace'! Yet his message was not received by the vibrant crowd...

*loos*: a freezing beauty-saloon.

*encounters*: crash course in surrealist dialogues.

Mo: what do you do?
xy: I collect Greek extraterrestrials.
Mo: how many have you got?
xy: 14, it's a full-time job.

a few minutes later he confessed: Sorry, I lied to you. I've only got two...

Ka: Have you ever been to the Shetland Islands?
yz: I know an injured seal there. His name is Ben.
Ka: Is Ben feeling better?
yz: Call him. He's got a mobile...

>>>*Good night guaranteed: if the music doesn't sweep you off your feet, the dialogues will!>>>*

*location*: the spooky sensation you get from the grey, dull and smoky outside is followed by an anticlimax when you actually enter the place: it couldn't be more ordinary!

*crowd*: sweaty students who haven't quite outlived their rebellious attitude towards their parents. Thus, Motherfuck!

*atmosphere*: if no smoke-machine is aiming at you, someone is certainly rubbing his sweaty body against your reluctant body or stubbing out his fag on you. Even though your senses are rebelling, at least you feel intensly alive! It's hard to tell if it's peer-pressure or just the lack of space which makes you move to the rythms of the crowd.

*music*: 'Funk', what else?

*loos*: great place to eavesdrop on the latest student romance.

*encounters*: to be perfectly honest, we couldn't be bothered.

>>>* if you can't afford a sauna: have this sweating- experience for free!>>>*

*location* What looks like a cinema on the outside is actually a big, cheesy club!

*4 reasons to go*

1. great night out for a paedophile!
2. play the 'guess-my-age-game' and be disillusioned!
3. prove that the world of fashion has opposite effects on girls and boys: while sixteen-year old girls force their way into twelve- year old's summer-clothing (the tighter, the better!) boys tend to prefer to hide their pre-muscular bodies in the more unrevealing, baggy wear.
4. want to have a fight and win?

*4 reasons to leave*

1. you're more into the 'grab-a-granny'-groove!
2. deja-vue experience of puberty in full bloom frightens you off!
3. add the latest chat-up's to your autobiography. A sample:

Boy: Are you the girl working at the Post Office on Nicolson Street?
Girl: No.
Boy: Can I have a drag of your fag?
Girl (reluctantly): Sure.
Boy: Did it look natural?
Girl (definitely disinterested): yes. why?
Boy: You see, I'm actually a non-smoker!
Girl danced off, baffled by his originality...

4. you lost the fight! (poor thing)

It was pouring with rain (does someone believe in signs?) when MoKa finally stood eye-to-eye with two solid but slightly dim looking bouncers. They showed no mercy on us whatsoever and they seemed to be irritatingly immune to our charms (another rather strange sign!) This phenomenon of hardened attitude would soon be solved... Eventually, the big bulky bastards were told by the master- bouncer voice over the earphones that a new victim supply was needed: In we went. Soon our eyes were opened to the dark secrets of this temple of doom!

By following a few simple rules, beloved reader, you'll be spared our fate:

1. Keep a close eye on your body parts, as in this environment they are considered 'common-grabbing-ground'!
2. Protect your arms from being abused as ashtrays!
3. Special attention should be paid to the vulnerable position of your rear. A good defense-strategy is to dance back-to- back with a friend!
4. Don't be confused if members of the male species take you for a 'breastriloquist'! The dominant fantasy in this club seems to be that if you're persistent enough, breasts will actually respond to your lecherous stares.

A revealing night out if you are not yet familiar with the abyss of the human (or more specifically male!) psyche.

*Preparation*
- tame your boas (blue ones are known to be highly aggressive, but Mo managed not to get bitten this time!) and spray lice-killer on your whigs!
- don't get the glue of the false eye-lashes in your eyes!
- hide spots under tattoos!

*Quest for the Party*
In front of the rather deserted looking Assembly Rooms Ka asked the guy who looked like a bouncer (fat and dumb):

Ka: Do you know where 'Going Places' is held tonight?
Bouncer: I'm afraid the travel agency is closed now...
???

Moral of the conversation: Parties change locations and not every fat and dumb guy is a bouncer!

*At the Party*
The motto of the party 'dress to impress' has led people to various interpretations. The stylish ones were wearing a boa (of course!) and the less stylish ones looked as if they had dressed in the dark! Overall, the crowd tried to imitate movie-stars of the fifties and there were actually a few guys our grandmothers would have fallen for! The very friendly and flirtatious atmosphere brought out the 'man-eater' in us. Mo outdoing her usual imaginative self, an example:

Mo sights victim at the bar ordering a coke without ice. Mo's witty chat-up line: So, you drink your coke without ice!!!

We will, for obvious reasons, withhold the exciting exchange of drinking-habits following such a punch-line.

Ka was more successful with the direct and more down-to-earth strategy: (mis)using her boa as a lasso!

*The morning after*
don't ask! The recovery took way longer than the preparation, but no hang-over was ever accompanied by such sweet memories...

-Never was dressing-up so profitable: instead of being humiliated roaming around granny's wardrobe gets you in cheaper!

-Just never been that lucky guy? entering Vegas' version of 'Blind Date' (it was rather a 'Blind and Deaf Date' because seeing and hearing was an impossibility!) could change your looser-image for life: win that 'Smoke Stack' dinner without saying much...and the little you do say nobody hears anyway!

What the hell does a guy swinging a skull-walkingstick, making uncoordinated movements and yelling into the microphone have in common with Frank Sinatra? MoKa's rather feeble guess was: 'He did it his way'!