Sweet Like Chocolate

A retrospective take on the dating scene - youth clubs

This is a very British story, the candy & the bands I mention were around at the end of the 1970s and into the 1980s

“Thanks,” she said, “you’re sweet.” She gave me a long, assessing look.

Her fringe hung in her eyes, that were ringed with kohl, making her seem exotic, maybe a little daunting. She took the can I offered and brought it to her lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off her but had no wish to act creepy, so I redirected my gaze to the pink lipstick print she’d left on the can’s edge instead.

What good is sweet? I shook my head: Mysterious, dangerous, better still cool. Why didn’t I evoke those adjectives? I sucked my teeth and contemplated rolling another fag, but I didn’t have much baccy left.

Shona and Angelica were up and dancing to the tunes, hoping the boys were watching them. They swung their hips and flicked long hair. I was bored, they were dull like the breakfast cereal I ate every day. Their appeal had diminished, even if there was a chance they would consider me.

Megan, however, was fresh meat. I wondered what music she liked, whether she had seen any bands play, did she go to Camden or Brick Lane. I edged closer, racking my brain for an opening.

‘On My Radio,’ started playing, and Angelica squealed that she loved that song.

“I’ve seen this lot play,” I told Megan, acting nonchalant, while my heart struck a rhythm against my ribs.

“This band — The Selecter?” She looked interested.

When Toby offered her a fag she waved him away but leaned in for me to tell her more.

“Yeah, at Lichfield Poly,” I shrugged, making out the best night of my life was no big deal.

“I love Pauline. Did she wear her hat?”

“Yeah she did. Actually, she wouldn’t take it off, said she hadn’t washed her hair!”

“Wow!” Megan’s body was angled towards me now, her face rapt. “Pauline Black’s my idol.”

“She’s talented, I’ll give you that.” I shrugged, Mr Nonchalant.

“Who d’you like?”

“The Special AKA,” I immediately answered.

Her eyes fluttered nearly closed in a gesture of ecstasy. “I luuuurve Terry Hall,” she sighed.

“They were at the Poly too, so were Madness. It was called the 2-Tone Tour.”

“You’re so lucky!”

I’d hit the jackpot alright, I had Megan’s full attention—time to to take it to the bank.

“Can I walk you?” I asked. “They’ve only got about six records here, but I have Gangsters, the twelve inch, and other LPs at my house: The Selecter, The Beat, The Bodysnatchers, and of course The Special AKA.”

“OK,” she gave me an interested look, her pearly pink lips pulling into a shy grin.

I slung my Harrington jacket over one shoulder, insouciant like Terry Hall, smirking back at Tony’s round-eyed expression of surprise.

As we headed down the road, I kicked an empty drink carton at a red phone box. It felt so good walking beside Megan, I could have boxed a kangaroo or wrestled a tiger.

“D’you want some chocolate?” I asked. “I’ve got Revels.”

“Lovely,” she nodded, pausing with an expectant look as I dug my hand into the pocket of my jeans.

I pulled out the orange packet with a sinking feeling. It was badly crumpled and when I tore it open its contents were a mess, the chocolate coating had melted and the sweets were a coagulated lump of flavours.

“Oh shit!” I swore, crestfallen. Of course, I should have known that my body heat would melt chocolate.

Megan peered into the wrapper and, wrinkling her nose, shook her head.

“You’re sweet,” she said. Her panda-outlined eyes twinkled with mirth. “Have a stick of chewing gum instead.”

“Thanks.”

Maybe gum was better, I mused as we resumed walking. With my breath freshened with spearmint, I might drum up the courage to kiss her.

2-Tone Records were created by Jerry Dammers, also a member of The Specials AKA

In this story I refer to the music preferences of my youth. I attended a concert on the 2-Tone Tour circuit and was a big fan of The Specials, The Selecter, Madness and The Beat. [I had a crush on Terry Hall — RIP]

I was inspired to write this short story after watching This Town [BBC] A series with an admittedly slow start, but it builds into fascinating viewing, especially if (like this author) you were a young person, or involved in the music scene at the end of the 1970s/ early 1980s.