Ah, May 4th.
What a singular day in the calendar, one that perfectly illustrates how the subculture of the geek has now infiltrated the mainstream.
Yes, you may be silently plotting Nerdy Neil’s death as he greets you with a jovial…
“May the Fourth be with you!”
…for the 12th year in a row but hey, at least this year it just so happens to fall on a Friday night.
And this can only mean one thing: A stellar session on the ales culminating in a boogie off at the Star Wars bar.
It’s a mecca for those wild, great nights you can’t remember; when the pubs have closed and you’re too pissed to even utter the word ‘Blackjack’, let alone hit the casino.
At 1am, the Star Wars bar is your non-judgemental, equal opportunities haven. And God Bless our crazy little Isle for that.
Where else would a nondescript and ultimately, pretty shit little hotel function room become a revered hotspot?
But why is it so beloved?
As aforementioned, it caters for all walks of life.
The eclectic mix of wedding casualties, youthful chancers and Dad dancers, creates quite the spectacle.
One bleary-eyed scan around the room and you’ll see the full spectrum of Man(n)kind in there.
Gran’s been on the prosecco and she’s tearing up the dance floor with your cousin Keith, who only got out on bail last week. Oh God, she’s twerking.
Even Glastonbury veterans would be hard pressed to see and hear a room so utterly joyous and lost in the transcendent power of music.
Such giddy happiness despite the fact it’s been the exact same playlist for a decade. If you haven’t rocked the Pulp Fiction dance to Nige’s version of “You can never tell” then you, my friend, have not lived.
The (palpable yet impossible to put your finger on) Stench
The potent combination of sweat drenched suits, jager-induced vomit and cheeky beer fart makes for an unholy welcome.
The air will punch you in the face, grab you in a headlock and smuggle you inside.
Shhh, let it happen. The Star Wars bar has you now. Your aroma will become hers and soon enough, you won’t care.
The Hero / Tw*t with the Tie round his head
During one of the less well known numbers, there’s always one committed soul who is still going for it. Looking like a Duracell Bunny mid-stroke, this valiant sod is lost to the sound of jaunty Beatles B-sides.
His mates left some time ago but that matters not. For this hero has his tie round his head. Like a bloody champion.
In 5 minutes time you’ll see him escorted from the premises and speaking in tongues.
But do not let that dampen his heroic status.
That card bill the next day
It’s 2.56am and what you need right now is, without question, a bottle of champagne and some shots of Wild Turkey. All round!!
Even for that guy you just met who told you why Brexit was the bloody French’s fault. Especially that guy! You’re out of cash? Fear not, the Star Wars bar will take your card, your soul and your dignity. Rejoice!
The Heads on show
The origins of the name stem from the seminal scene in ‘A New Hope’ in the Cantina bar where we see all manner of aliens and weird and wonderful pissed up specimens.
If you’ve never appreciated the brilliance of this moniker than I’m afraid, you are one of the freaks on show.