An excerpt from my novel, The Clubber: A Tale of the Eighties, available now on Amazon.com

    “Your friend’s upstairs.”
    He turned around. It was Beth El, this time with a spaced out Throcker hanging off her arm.
    “What?”
    “Your friend Serge is upstairs.”
    “Serge?”
    “Yes.”
    No doubt Serge had made it to the club’s covert drug scene. She must have come from where all the snorting and slamming were taking place.
    “Do you know how to get up there?” she asked.
    “No, I’m not quite sure.”
    Normally, he would have said “yes” just to save face, but he was anxious to find Marek. Desperation and excitement forced him to tell the truth.
    “Follow the rainbow man.”
    Beth pointed to the multi-colored man who had grabbed everyone’s attention outside the club. He was walking across the floor.
    “Thanks,” he said, and turned and followed the multicolored clubber.

    The rainbow man walked to the other bar, one mashed into a small corner. It appeared to be nothing more than a small corner with a cluttered caterer’s bar. Perhaps Beth El was playing a joke on him?
    The rainbow man walked to the far side of the bar where there was a dark corridor like gap between the porta-bar and the wall. Andre reluctantly followed him down the dark side-strip of the floor.
    The rainbow man opened a very small door in the back wall behind the bar. Andre was blinded by the bright stairwell light that shone in from the open doorway. The rainbow man stopped in the doorway.
    “Y’comin’ up kitten?” asked the rainbow man.
    “Huh?”
    “Come on in. Move up. Y’ain’t th’ caboose.”
    The rainbow man waited, and Andre walked through the doorway.
    They walked up the stairs.
    “So, you found out where the real party is?” asked the rainbow man.
    “I guess so. I won’t know till I get up there.”
    “Believe me, you don’t want to go up there unless you’re ready to stay up all night.”
    They trudged up steep and carpeted wooden stairs. These were not the same kind of stairs as in the other stairwell, which had plain metal stairs.
    Feeling a ripple of tension through his neck and shoulders, Andre realized that Serge was privy to an even more exclusive region of the club, and that made him bristle. Compared to him, Serge was nothing more than a worn-out poseur. How was it that Serge was not only able to get tickets to the Mittenator but also knew about its more secret places? After all, Serge never went to shows, didn’t know any real artists, and all he ever did was hang out in cafes. The whole idea was making Andre’s head throb.

    After climbing two flights they came to a small, white door. The rainbow man opened the door and the serene stairwell filled with the din of a chattering mob and thumping music.
    Walking through the door, Andre found himself in a waiting area type of room. The room was a mass of cigarette smoke and wall-to-wall people. Some people sat on chairs and couches, but most stood or sat on the floor. Ceiling speakers pumped out grade-A new wave dance music as people drank and smoked and talked.
    The place was so crowded and smoky that Andre quickly lost sight of the rainbow man who had disappeared into the crowd.
    It was quite a different vibe from the main club. Everyone was just hanging out and talking. The atmosphere was far more relaxed than it had been downstairs. Andre was very surprised to see how many people had gotten upstairs.
    Walking through the room, he had to step over a fair number of young clubbers in order to make his way into a hallway. His tongue was already stinging from the hard alcohol and cigarette vapors in the air.
    The smokey hallway itself was crowded with fluorescent queens and dark throckers. Various open doorways alternating down the corridor led to the nether regions of the fifth-floor party. He kept walking straight ahead, taking sideways glances into other rooms. Some of the entryways opened into other hallways, and some led to more small rooms crowded with people, music, and smoke. The main hallway finally ended in a large square room, one that continued the crowd and smoke filled theme. This place appeared to be the center of the party.
    He was beginning to realize just how large the fifth floor really was. It snaked off in so many directions that he became disoriented. Which way should he go? What should he do if anyone asked him what he was doing there? How the hell was he ever going to find Serge?
    He spotted a stocky longhair pouring drinks at a bar.
    “Can I get a gin and tonic?” asked Andre.
    “Get it yourself. I ain’t the fuckin’ bartender,” said the longhair, who then wandered off with his oversized cocktail.
    Andre became a bit unnerved by his gruff manner. It was becoming clearer to him that the party was an exceedingly casual affair.
    The various liquor bottles behind the bar were, for the most part, rather bizarre-looking contraptions in exotic shapes, with strange dark colors and lots of German or Scandinavian writing on them.
Andre picked up a wide, green bottle with German writing on it and sniffed its contents. It smelled like cheap red wine. Picking up a tall, violet bottle, he discovered something that smelled like good rum. After pouring himself a large glass of the liquor he wandered back into the party.
    He took a few slugs of the mysterious Euro liquor and decided he might as well just move around randomly. His drink did taste like rum, and it was quite strong, but it left a curious caramel-and-fruit aftertaste. He decided not to worry about it and kept walking and sipping. He found that the tone of the party and the punch of the liquor helped him relax.
    Walking into a hallway, Andre stumbled a bit. He realized he was getting fairly drunk. He had been ordering and downing drinks all night without thinking.
    Sipping his drink conservatively, he continued to walk around, going through rooms, going down hallways, every one packed with people. He was amazed at how large the fifth floor was, but then he realized that the fifth floor was probably as expansive as the first floor or close to it. That would make it quite a large place indeed.
    After a period of squeezing through crowds and stepping over people, he realized that he had only traveled through the main rooms and hallways. There were smaller side hallways that must lead to more secluded rooms.
    He walked down a small side corridor and entered a room with a couch and a couple of folding chairs. This room had off-white walls and looked like a storage room. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the rest of the place.
    A couple of teenagers in leather jackets were sitting on the couch, quietly smoking and drinking beer while a couple of criminally-thin women in long skirts paced around the room and talked. The women held large bottles of vodka. This mere quartet of youngsters had managed to fog the room with cigarette smoke. On the other side of the room was a small doorway covered with what looked like a small hallway rug.
    “Are you lookin’ for Jake?” asked one of the wandering, wispy women.
    “Jake?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Yeah, I’m lookin’ for Jake,” replied Andre with liquid courage.
    “He’s in there,” said the wisp woman, pointing toward the doorway.
    “Thanks.”
    Pushing aside the rug, he walked through the doorway. Five pair of eyes suddenly turned toward him. It was as if he had walked through the double doors of a saloon in an old western movie.
    There were three pastel and sequined clubbers sitting around a small table. Two teenage throck women sat on the floor sharing a large bottle of Jack Daniels. A gossamer blast of Cocteau Twins was coming out of a boombox mounted on one of the paisley walls.
    “What are you doing here?” rasped a tall and skinny queen in a silver lame’ business suit.
    The stabbing stares started to unnerve him.
    ”Someone told me Jake was in here.”
    “You know Jake?” asked a rather rotund Divine-looking queen.
    “Yeah. Someone told me he was in here.”
    “Oh, great!” whined the Divine man sarcastically, “Now I’ll have to make another line.”
    The Divine man sat up. He was presiding over a mirror on which he was crafting several huge lines of white powder.
    All of a sudden it hit Andre. “Jake” was the code name for whatever was on the mirror.
    “Wait a minute,” said the tall silver queen, who leaned over and whispered into the Divine man’s ear.
    “Oh, give me a break!” he snapped. “You’re paranoid. This gorgeous little man ain’t no cop.” He looked over at Andre. “Come on in honey.You want a line, don’t’cha’?”
    “Yeah, sure,” he replied uncertainly. He was almost sure that they were doing speed, but it could also have been coke. The chance that it was heroin was remote. There was far too much of it on the mirror for it to be heroin.
    “Who told you this was in here?” rasped the silver queen.
    “Serge did,” he responded confidently. He didn’t know if it would work, but he knew that if he acted sure of himself he might get away with it.
    “Serge who?” asked the silver queen.
    “You know, short, skinny Serge.” replied a young Souisxie Souix look-a-like who was sitting on the floor.
    “Who?”
    “You know, that skinny fag with the blond hair,” said the Divine Man,
    “Which skinny blond fag?” snapped the silver queen. “There’s about five thousand people out there like that!”
    “That Alarm guy,” said Souisxie Souix.“
    “Right,” said the silver queen, who suddenly sounded quite relieved.
    “Yeah, that’s him,” said Andre.
    “Come on over here honey,” said the Divine man. “It’s my birthday, and I want all of my friends to get some goodies.”
    Andre stepped into the room. He took note of a short blond man who was sitting on the other side of the table. He walked around the throckers and sat down on the bright orange couch against the wall. Sousxie Souix handed the bottle of J.D. to Andre.
    “Thanks.”
    “So, how much did ya’ want to buy?” asked the Divine man.
    “What?” asked Andre, as he handed back the bottle to Sousxie Souix.
    “How much crank d’you want? Did you want, like, a half?”
    “Yeah. A half oughta’ do it.”
    “That’s all?” smiled Souisxie Souix.
    “I don’t do this stuff all that often.”
    “Well, this shit’ll knock your socks off,” said the silver queen.
    “Yeah. And you get to try before you buy,” said Divine. “But only because it’s my birthday!”
    At least he now knew what drug they had. He had not considered doing anything that night besides drinking, but this night was a special occasion. It would probably do him good to keep up with the all-night crowd. Besides, it would take the edge off his drunk and possibly improve his mood.
    “Are you a musician?” asked the other young throcker in a smoky voice.
    “No, I’m an artist.”
    “Ooh! Have you ever had your work shown here?” asked Souisxie Souix.
    “Oh, come on, honey,” lisped Divine. “You have to kill someone to get a show here, and he doesn’t look like he’s killed yet.” He looked apologetically at Andre. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll kill soon enough.”
    Divine handed a metal snorting straw to the silver queen, who bent down and took a good long snort. Andre was surprised at how long he snorted. He looked at the tray and saw that the lines were literally a foot long. The only time he had ever seen lines like these was the one time he had gotten to sit in with a few really big-time dealers.
    Silver stood back up, tilting his head back and sniffing. He trembled a bit.
    Divine bent down and sniffed his line quickly. Then he gave the straw out to Souisxie Souix, who handed it to Andre.
    “You go next. I’m such a lightweight it’ll take me forever to do my line.”
    He took the straw and stood up. He was walking around the throckers when Divine shook his head around.
    “Woo! Damn!” said Divine. “Here, let me get out of your way.” He stood up, carefully rising out of his seat so he didn’t fall over.
    Andre looked at the impossibly long line. It wasn’t just long, but it was thick and rocky as well.
    Bending down as the short blond looked on disinterestedly, he carefully touched the straw to the line. He wasn’t sure if he should snort it slowly or if he should just try and do it all very quickly. He inhaled slowly and the grainy crystals made his nose throb and sting.
    As he snorted a battery-acid taste washed down the back of his throat. His head throbbed with the rush of some very powerful crank. Halfway through his line, he wanted to stand back up and alleviate the pain, but he kept going. The battery-acid taste made him feel nauseous. His temples throbbed as if his heart had jumped into his forehead.
    As he was finishing his line tears came to his eyes. He quickly stood up and had to backpedal a few steps. His head was spinning.
    “Oooaauuugh,” he groaned.
    “Good stuff, isn’t it?” said the silver queen.
    “No shit!” He became dizzy as he felt the powerful speed high rip and crash through his body.
    He could tell his face was turning red as small tears were rolling down his cheeks. He held his head back so that no one would see the tears. The front of his face became hot. He had never done such a huge line of crank like that before.
    He began to suspect that this was the best crank he had ever had. It made Jake’s usual supply seem weak.
    Electricity went through his head and his limbs. His heart pounded so hard it felt as if it were going to crack some of his ribs.
    “Dude, the straw!”
    The short blond man was holding his hand out for the straw.
    “Sorry.”
    Andre handed the straw to the man who started sliding the speed-covered mirror toward himself.
    “Fuckin’ A,” said Andre.
    “It’s good shit, ain’t it?” asked Divine.
    Andre staggered back to the couch and sat down next to Divine.
    “Could I get a hit of J.D.?” asked Andre of Souisxie Souix. “I need to take the edge off.”
    He downed a big swig of J.D. It killed the bitter, metallic taste in his mouth.
    “My name is Stan, by the way,” said the Divine man, as he held out a hand.
    “Hi, Stan by the way,” he replied as he shook his hand.
    “So, how do you know Serge?” asked the silver queen.
    “Oh, you know, around the club scene.”
    The silver queen nodded. Andre’s generic answer had worked. The blond man was done snorting and Souisxie Souix got up to the table to start her line, leaving the Jack Daniels with Andre.
    “So, you really only want a half?” asked Stan.
    Andre swiveled his head around. “Yeah, that’s all I need.”
    “Alrighty, then. I usually don’t go as small as a half, but since it’s my birthday, what the heck.”
    Andre watched as the young throcker slowly and painfully did her line. She would sniff up just a bit and then shake her head around.
    He leaned his buzzing head forward, and tried to check out the scene. Everything in the room looked brighter. His head felt as light as a feather.
    It took a while, but the young Throcker finally finished snorting her line. Her face turned bright red as she staggered about the room.
    Souisxie Souix staggered over to Andre and took the bottle of Jack from him. She sat down in his lap, putting an arm around him.
    He was surprised. She took a big swig from the bottle and looked him in the face, putting the tip of her nose right up to his cheek.
    “Omigod, I think this guy is straight!” said Souisxie.
    “A breeder?” gasped the corner queen facetiously. “Who let him in here?”
    “Now, Gary,” said Divine Stan, “It’s not his fault he’s straight.”
    Divine Stan stood up and went to the table. He took out a small scale and a large bag of powder and started weighing out piles of speed. Souisxie had a few more hits of J.D. and then put her head on Andre’s shoulder. He enjoyed having the young clubber in his lap. He was feeling incredibly good at the moment.
    “Hey Andre, you ever had sex on speed?” asked Siousxie Souix.
    “Mira,” said Divine Stan, in a scolding tone of voice.
    “What?”
    “Don’t go traumatizing another young man tonight.”
    “Ha! He says that to me all the time, but it isn’t true. Y’know how many fags I hang out with?”
    “She ruins them too,” said the silver queen.
    “So, you still want a half?” asked Divine Stan.
    “Yeah.”
    “Okay, fork over forty bucks.”
    “Um…”
    “Give it to me when Mira gets off your lap. That is, if she ever gets off.”
    “Are you telling me I should get off?” said Mira.
    “Like you need me to tell you that!”
    Divine Stan started weighing out Andre’s buy. Andre had not planned on buying anything more than a lot of drinks, but fortunately he had quite a bit of money on him. He didn’t mind getting wired, but the hit he had taken was more than enough to last him through the night. He really didn’t need to get more, but he couldn’t turn down the offer to buy since that would blow his cover.
    Divine Stan weighed out Andre’s portion, and then dumped in some extra speed.
    “Just a tip, Hon,” said Divine Stan. “For being such a doll.” He closed the small plastic baggie and handed it to Andre with a wink.
    Souixie Souix snuggled up to Andre. Putting his arm around her, he grabbed the bottle of J.D with his free hand.

https://www.amazon.com/Clubber-Tale-Eighties-Jeffrey-Matucha-ebook/dp/B0719M67LX/