New Year's Eve 2013 Old Skool Disco @Creswell Social Centre

I'd just settled down in front of the telly-box in anticipation of a musical evening capped with Jool's Annual Hootenanny. Everything was right: the comfy socks, the hot beverage, mince pies... New Year's Eve is quality 'me' time.

Then the phone rang:

"Loo, get ready. I'm coming by to pick you up in 30 minutes. We're going to an old skool disco," said Esh.
"Eh?" said I.
"Old Skool Disco.." enunciated Esh, much more slowly.
I thought he'd gone looney-tunes. 'Why on Earth would I give up a Hootenanny for a night that can't even manage to play one song all the way through?' I thought to myself.
"It's at a possible venue for our dance night," cajoled Esh.

At that point, the prospect of quality 'me' time bleated as it was sacrificed on the altar of Latin social dance. "Okay," I sighed.

An hour and a half later and we, Esh and I, were standing at the threshold of Creswell Social Club's main hall. This is what we saw:

Old Skool

Revellers shuffled from foot to foot, clutching their prized golden nectar in plastic cups, some mouthing lyrics from fragments of songs by Bon Jovi. Air, made acrid with artificial smoke, occasionally lanced by sharp beams of primary colour, pounded with the weight of an overpowered system. Spots of white versus off-white battled for supremacy across the lid of a giant box.

I looked to my right and read Esh's expression.
"Not feeling the love, huh?" I observed.
He shook his head, despondent.
"Don't worry, I can make this work" I said.
He looked surprised, tinged with a good handful of disbelief.
"Trust me."

This wasn't my first rodeo, and I could see its potential immediately. The plus features of the room were its:

• width - close enough for people to mingle and not feel exposed when crossing over to ask for a dance;
• size - large enough for a decent capacity yet, crucially, intimate enough that a good atmosphere could be had with smaller attendance numbers;
• height - the ceiling was high enough to draw away some of the heat, and had fans for circulation; and,
• dance-floor - a slightly-sprung hardwood floor, kept in good nick (even past the spilt beer), with no detectable steel-joist hard-points beneath.

All the key aspects for dancers' comfort were addressed in the room. With the right lighting, and imaginative dressing, this unpromising duckling could be swanified.

"I need to check their loos" I said. The business-person in me learned, a long time ago, that the state of the toilet facilities are the clearest indication of staff morale. Creswell's were modern and immaculate, easily the best I'd seen at a social club anywhere. Dancers with expensive dance shoes appreciate good facilities.

Steve then took Esh and I into the kitchen area to meet the venue manager, Pat - a slim lady, with bright eyes, gentle smile, and kind no-nonsense demeanour. She listened to our plans in an unhurried manner (in the midst of a busy New Year's Eve service period), then said, "Let me get out the venue diary for the year."

I'd expected her to say "let me think about this and contact you." Caught on the hop, I knew we had to take an immediate plunge or lose organisational credibility. We'd come prepared. I'd already identified the first Saturday of every month as the best candidate:

• Fridays were always a rush for most working people, yours truly included, whereas a Saturday evening event meant for a more leisurely build-up of anticipation;
• the first Saturday of the month slotted in well with the cycle of monthly events in the region, it having become available after a promoter had decided to cease a running regular event; and,
• previous experience told me that the first Saturday after pay day was less vulnerable to seasonal fluctuations.

We committed to start on the 1st of March 2014 - a mere two months away - and confirmed the dates for six months, pencilling the other dates for the remainder of the year (with a view to confirming them or not after an internal four-month review).

Esh and I left Creswell with a sharply renewed focus. There's nothing like making a commitment to crystallise the mind. Now I have to make good on my promise of transforming Creswell into a delightful swan of a place to Latin dance in.

I took a deep breath.
Loo