"I'm just off for a piss!" I said.
I had to yell right in Helen's ear to be heard above the pounding music.
I stood up, pushed away from the wall and wobbled towards the bog on hot rubber legs. My eyes felt like footballs, I couldn't stopped gritting my teeth and the cooling sweat on my clothes made them feel like lettuce leaves.
By the door to the bog I slowly turned round and through the mass of twitching, agitated bodies, caught quick glimpses of Hell; eyes shut, nodding loosely, burning cigarette ignored in her jerking hand.
Into the bogs, though the wedge of jolting, haggling teenagers crowding the sinks; buying or swallowing or talking shite or inspecting their fish-belly faces and bulging eyes in the mirrors, each one moving all or part of their bodies to the music made bigger and harsher in the ceramic box.
I stood in front of the urinal with my d*ck in my hand, a rubber walnut refusing to work as my jaw swivelled and chomped and my head seemed full of helium.
I focused on a piece of picked-off sticker on the wall, thought about pissing, relief, waterfalls, then fell into it as my eyes rolled with a wave of numbness pouring down my skull. I forgot about the piss and just leant against the cool tiles.
"Just like that, Bruv!"
"Eh?" I didn't even try to look up.
I refocused, let out a long breath and turned to see a fish-belly face under a green Kangol hat, wet savant grin and pupils like tea-plates. He'd been there ages too.
Smiling, I rocked back on my heels, stuffed the unused rubber walnut back into my sweaty flies, nodded to the Kangol and lurched back to Helen. Give it an hour or so, eh?