Walkley working mens club

[bluecanary 13]

I hope they check the toilets before they demolish the building.

 

My OH had been to an exercise session there one Saturday and, as she was getting changed, she saw a hand come round the door and switch one of the lights off. She was the last one there and shouted out but no-one heard. She switched the light back on and continued changing. When she came out the building was deserted and the doors locked.

 

There was nobody to call, I was in Croatia at the time, so she ended up calling the police who then contacted the key holder. The manager's daughter had locked up and was the person who arrived to unlock the premises. She insisted that my OH had not been there when she locked up but could not explain how she happened to be in the building now.

 

She also stated that she had entered the ladies' toilet to switch the light off and that there had been no-one there. Given that there was nowhere to hide between the toilets and the exit she would not give an explanation as to how my OH had been locked in.

 

So, before they demolish the building make sure you know where your loved ones are.

 

Glad that your wife escaped unscathed!

 

It looks like they have finished gutting the inside now, so presumably they would have found any other lost individuals trapped inside. I guess the next step will be demolishing the building.

[DerbyTup 10]

I can think of nothing worse than those institutions that call themselves "working men's clubs".

 

I've always disliked them with a vengeance.

 

I lost a very dear friend to a Working Man's Club some years ago. We used to go out down town, cherchez la femme, in our 20's. But something strange happened to the poor lad a few years down the line. He started going in his local Working Men's Club. I think the initial attraction was that it was somewhere to go for a drink within walking distance of his house, that was how it started.

 

Then they started to draw him in...

 

As you may know, there's lots of rules and some sort of hierarchy in these Working Men's Clubs. Wilf, who used to sit on the door and check everyone's membership as they came in, giving out a "raffle ticket", as evidence of paid entry for visitors, told my mate they were looking for new members fo't Committee like. My mate volunteered.

 

He was interviewed, informally, over several visits by various "Committee" members - then they informed him that he'd been selected.

 

My mate had never really achieved anything in his working life, so getting on to the Committee at the Working Men's Club was a bit of an achievement for him. He was hooked.

 

Before long he was organising the club turns, sorting out prizes for the Bingo, sitting in on Committee meetings to discuss the bedding plants for the little plot of land outside...

 

I'd lost him!

 

When I used to call for him, in my glad rags of a Friday night, and expect to go down town to cherchez la femme, he didn't want to go anymore. He wanted to go in the Working Men's Club where he could "be somebody".

 

So, I went along with it a few times, until I could stands no more of mixing with such dull folks, drinking such poor drinks, observing such second rate entertainment and being bathed in cigarette smoke all evening.

 

I felt it was like death's waiting room for me. So I got out. Never to return.

 

But - it's each to their own I guess and I'm sure for many folks these places have given endless enjoyment. I don't see a future in them though because people have more choice and want better quality everything thesedays.

[max 13]

 

My mate had never really achieved anything in his working life

 

Perhaps it wasn't the Club that was the draw but the company he had been keeping beforehand that drove him into their arms.