Rogues On Oxford Street (Part 4)

Heading For The City

Our minds were set and the plan standing at 1:00 a.m. was to head down to Rogues, figuring that this would be one of the few clubs left standing in the City until 6:00 a.m. There was a mad rush of intention to head to Splash or DCM across the street but we ended up with a rightful choice, Rogues.

Beginning our trek with the meager tunes of Wild FM heading out of the standard speakers in his swift, Nero advised us both that he was buying a system in a few weeks. “Where are you getting all this money from” I asked curiously, as he replied “Just working hard I guess”.

Sounding about right as he works for big pay, we decided to give Sweeney’s a try first, cutting up the long way past Ingleburn’s Pizza Hut, over the Macquarie Fields bridge, past Subway and then onto the highway which led us directly there. Optimism blended in with some uncertainty, I kept repeating how it was a new club and how it has had its days, not really certain of the outcome.

Almost missing the sharp turnoff I kept pointing and noting “Turn in here, turn in here” and almost intentionally, Nero kept asking “What, here, here” to which he finally skidded and drove on the wrong side of the inroad. Once upon the long rocky driveway we all noticed the dismal darkness emanating from the supposed club, almost to point of amusement. “Yep, this place is pumping” Tyler noted as we drove slowly past the blackened area and chagrined, we turned ship and sailed the other way, onwards to the City.

There wasn’t much chatter towards the City as Tyler was being his usual reserved self and myself in the back, couldn’t chat too much. Rather, we were all trying to get into the beat of the softly resounding music from his factory speakers and deciding to head through the toll-way, the girl there taking Nero’s money was the first glimpse of that night’s association. Now me and being generous with money is simple. I give handouts to people who are either good people or who don’t ask for it.

Paying My Way

Once you start demanding money, greed overcomes good and that’s when I start getting picky about who I go out with and if so, how much money I fork out. This used to happen with Keith and Ralf demanding money on outings and as far back as I can remember, I recall Ace coming out with us when we headed to the ghost house near Camden, where Ace was in the car one of those days. Claude and his Prelude also roamed around those days and I remember Ralf saying “Come on guys you have to pay up” and Ace responding “Are you serious”.

That would have been the first instance that I recall of Ace before Ralf lost his license but as something like that happened in more recent times, that was why Ralf stopped charging people for driving around with him and eventually just stopped driving to the City. Anyway, I offered to pay $10 to Nero because he was going out of his way and it was the least I could do for him scratching up the inside of his car door when we were trying to break in.

When passing the toll, we stopped off at a service station where Nero filled up his car and I paid virtually for half the tank. In addition, I also bought some snacks for the three of us and still with the stigma of Ralf in my mind, when jumping in the car I asked “Do you have any house rules about eating in your car”. The obvious answer was “Just don’t spill it everywhere” something that in respect we achieved…

Down The Stairs At Rogues

Arriving in the City and driving through Redfern to head up the back of Oxford Street, we headed down into little streets and alleys looking for a parking spot right near the front of Rogues. Finding that certain spot just a couple of meters down the street, we jumped out of the car with expectations and headed to the front of Rogues. What struck me with fascination was a shop right next to Rogues which had the maddest gear for clubs I had seen, mostly white and with contoured lines.

Getting over the excitement of these clothes, we headed into the lineup for Rogues passing some large umbrellas. Paying our fifteen dollars at the door, we walked in with optimism and walking down the long stairwell after being stamped, we weren’t disappointed. Rogues was fairly different in scene to what I was used to. Atmosphere and the people were alike of Byblos but yet, the sunken dancefloor with a separate stage to dance upon was fairly unique to Oxford street.

Around this square of dancing was a belonged corridor with archways separating the people bopping close to the actions and the chill out room beyond, within the second hallway. The music they were playing was similar to Byblos which I appreciated. However, hearing Nero note that it wouldn’t have been that great on a Friday night, I wasn’t expecting too much and found that we just didn’t mix too well with the crowd or we did but I was just paranoid.

Arriving inside Rogues at 2:15 a.m., to their watches it wasn’t too late and rather, just on time to join into the fray of pumping music. Choosing to walk around the railed off dancefloor, we bopped to the music and tried our best to feel the groove within our feet. To be frank, our style of dancing was variant to everyone else to which I understood why Nero sat down after buying one drink and remained seated in a comfortable spot for some time.

Dancing At The Rail

Tyler and I were standing next to each other dancing but as I wanted badly to unleash myself, it seemed that everyone was paired off with a women or they were in a group where you just didn’t want to start a fight by chatting with the girls or treating them like little sluts. Standing right near the rails looking into a lightly spaced dancefloor, Tyler and I enjoyed our own grooves overlooking everyone else.

Later in the night, I heard that Tyler was pinched on the ass by one of the ladies there and I could have had my desserts when two ladies jumped right in front of me and started wiggling around their asses but I figured they were a touch too old and probably leaning over the rails to speak to some guy that could have had me for breakfast. There weren’t really much Lebs there but mostly a European blend.

There was a dominance of blonde Australian girls there that really got me going, Greeks, Italians, Lebs and the list goes on. This club really lived up to its expectation as I saw some Leb guy who had his shirt unbuttoned almost to the bottom showing off his Chest, dancing up to some Asian girl who was wearing nothing but underwear posing as club clothes.

Yeah, I was loving this place but felt like I had to keep my hands and feet inside the white line at all times otherwise I would get looked at the wrong way by some guy thinking I was trying to move in on his squeeze.

Blonde On The Dancefloor

The better girls remembered through the night were few amongst the crowd but to start off with an entrée, there was a nice blonde girl with a light blue top on dancing with some Romanian looking guys. There wasn’t anything special about her but with her light blue top clinging to her bra, she was a stereotype of the kind of girl that has been so adamant to my choice of desire. There was also a girl dancing in the corner near the DJ’s box who looked done up to a plastic proportion (Photogenic) and had a beautiful red top on.

She didn’t really stand out above the rest but her dancing style which wasn’t nothing more than relaxed and casual turned not only me on but Tyler standing next to me. Apart from her, there was the most beautiful and vibrantly charged women I had seen that night, the apex of my desire. Looking as if she was at least twenty three, she knew her songs well and with her long blonde hair past her shoulders, she didn’t show any self-conscious portrayals when jumping around like a star on the dancefloor.

Pausing on a break in the music which was building up for a matter of seconds, she held her hands out to the sides, her head slightly tilted towards the floor, composed and her legs slightly bent towards each other with her concave hips. When the music started she floated her arms around generously, turning from time to time and having her hair fly in front of her face, making her look all the more stunning.

You could tell that everyone was looking at her excellent style of dancing to which you could also see she was overtaken by her conceited views of just how good she was. Dampened views did surpass me when I noticed her dancing with some Leb guy. Rather, the Leb guy was bopping uncomfortably next to her, being the only guy with her on a center stage slightly uplifted from the ground. Looking intimidated to her style of dancing and being all over the stage, he was reserved in a way until she came over to him, looking in his eyes awaiting his move.

When finally he tried putting something together and clicking his fingers right near her, you could see the animosity and vengeance in his bitter mouth when she flicked her hand at him as if to say “Is that all you’ve got”, turned her back and walked away. This poor Lebanese guy fell for her trap as he was left standing there as if she had left him at the alter. Empathizing with him, my respect for this girl dropped a touch but I knew, she wanted to play her games and that she did.

A huge flirt that’s what she was and I didn’t see her walking out of there with any guy soon. However, for a slight touch of a second, I thought myself that I would make a good contender but I didn’t want to approach this fascination with dance but with words. To admire is weak and for that weakness, I chose to keep my distance and watch her jump back on minutes later strutting her incredible stuff.