There was a constant ebb and flow of dancers making their way through the crowd to the DJ booth to make requests. When they saw Morrissey standing with me they inevitably nodded their heads in approval and made comments like ‘good job, you look just like him’ or ‘you’re one of the best here tonight.’
Slowly a buzz began to develop in the club, you could feel it growing. Now it wasn’t just the dance floor that was packed; the area in front of the DJ booth had a large crowd standing, staring at the two of us.
Every time Morrissey would give his fans a shy wave through the low Perspex surround that ringed the booth they would wave back then turn to each other with a ‘do you think that could be….?’
Moz and I talked and agreed I had to say something. I picked up the microphone and flipped it on.
“Hope you’re having a good time so far tonight here at Fashions. Thanks to everyone who came dressed up as Morrissey. It’s going to be a fantastic contest.” I paused for a second. “If you all promise to stay cool I’ll let you in on a secret. Who out there can be cool?”
I held the mic out and five hundred people yelled back, “We can!”
I glanced at Moz and he nodded in approval. I continued on the mic, “OK, cool people. We have a special judge for our look-a-like contest tonight. Remember you are all cool, because this,” I pointed to the famous singer from Manchester standing next to me, “is Morrissey!”
A hush dropped over the club, and I had never heard Fashions so silent, not even during the early evening hours when the club was still closed and the only people inside were me and the bartenders. Amazingly everyone was being cool – for exactly one second!
Then a roar erupted. The crowd pushed forward as one and a tsunami of bodies surged at the DJ booth, shattering the Perspex surround and everywhere there were hands and arms reaching in, grabbing, pulling. The two security guards by the booth were overwhelmed and Morrissey leapt to the rear of the DJ area in an attempt to find shelter among the vinyl albums and record crates.