Yes, I remember Ritzy’s –

The name, because one Wednesday

Of heat me and my mates called in there

Mistakenly.  It was late May.

 

We were p****d.  Someone cleared his guts.

No one left and no one came

On the bare dance floor.  What I saw

Was Ritzy’s – only the name

 

And minis, miniskirts and heels,

And cheap perfume and glasses dry.

Mutton dressed up as lonely lamb,

Grab a granny before you die.

 

And for that minute a DJ sang

Close by, and round him, p****d as one,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Chaddesden and Alvaston.

 

©2006 Jonathan Brewer.  Reproduced with permission of the author.