This was written about an actual experience that I had when I went out to the Metro Nightclub in the city to see a band with new friends.
The Bouncer Turned Me Away
Stephen Clark
March 26th 1998
"Dimm", "Anthony", and "Dorothy Dimm's Girlfriend"
They were sitting there in the "cafe"
Looking at me, looking at eachother
Talking as if nothing at all was wrong
All I had seen was a smooth transition, without a word
There had been no explanation
At first I was afraid
Of the screen that they threw between me and reality
I felt myself being led into a world of surface glitter
A world of free lemonade and chips
Each chip was perfectly formed
With just the right crunch
And just the right amount of sauce
I ate until I could eat no more
But still the plate was full.
The elite provided a strangely balanced conversation
In which I contributed not too much, not too little
The atmosphere was smoothely fabricated like a theatre set
It was lavishly insulated like a SouzaVillian palace
It was impeccably coreographed like Susan Turner
You would expect the credits to roll at any second
I decided I should thank the elite for putting on this show for me
So I told them how grateful I was.
But as everyone knows,
You can't thank fictional characters for being entertaining
So my gratitude only confused them.
Never having come to this place before, I
Was not sure what services they provided for customers.
But the elite had been in the business for many years,
So their client interaction was beyond reproach
They walked me to the tram stop
Which was rather inconvenient,
As they gave me no opportunity to do cartwheels
On the one hand I couldn't resist what had been given to me for free
But on the other hand I felt like I was stealing
They provided the rich elite service
To the homeless mental patient
I didn't pay for it
I didn't pay for it
I didn't pay for it
Oh wait -- maybe I did.