The club was packed and smoky, and stowed senseless with gadabouts reeking rank of dried or burnt grass. It was that much worse with the whiff of bitters or cheaper ethanol.
I was dancing with a girl I know and consider decent enough. It was both disturbing and thrilling to watch her gyrating with open body like she was lone-dancing in her room.
Just when I was forgetting about the nasal assault of the louts, the girl opposite belched her bile up right in my face, and bathed me in the stifling warmth of lager, stout and some mid-way digested chow.