I grew up in an Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn. In the 1980s, when I was in my early 20s, most of the young guys in the area had social clubs. We paid the landlord’s rent to keep the place. It was a place for us to hang out, drink, and have parties. It was also somewhere to hang out, play cards, and watch TV on weekend afternoons or whenever we wanted. Most of my friends and I were there every night.

On Friday and Saturday nights, my friends and I would meet at our club, have a few drinks, and then head to a dance club or bar to pick up girls. Again, this was the 80s, and everything was different then. We would bring girls back to the club when we could to have a good time. In addition to a long bar, stereo, and dancefloor, complete with a spinning mirrored ball in the center ceiling, it had couches and stuff to enjoy.

Our club was at the bottom of an apartment building with eight apartments. The apartment building had two storefronts, and a smaller group of guys, our friends, had the other storefront as their club.

If you were a tenant in the building, you would enter the front door between the two storefronts and walk up the stairs to your apartment. Our club had our own front door, but the other didn’t. You had to enter the apartment building and walk through the hallway to their front door. Their club was more set up like an apartment.

Our club had two doors: a front door and a back door. Our back door was across from the other club’s front door in the hallway behind the staircase. The rear doors leading into the hallway were always open, and we were all always going in and out between the clubs.

It was a great setup. Our club had a bar with a dance floor and music and was brightly lit up most of the time. The other club was set up differently. When you walked in from the hallway, there was a small room with a countertop and stools, just like a diner. They had a stove and grill and made food on the weekends during our card games. They charged for the food to help with their rent. My friend Tony would sit behind the counter and hang out all day, smoking pot and making food when we were there. Most of the guys in this club were potheads, but they were all our good friends.

During the week or on weekend afternoons, we’d go in there to smoke pot or bullshit with the other guys when we were all hanging out. They also had a few rooms with couches that we would use when our club had parties. We would bring girls into those rooms to get laid or blow jobs. The place was always full of pot smoke. The girls liked that, too.

We knew these guys had cut slots into the walls so they could look in when one of the guys was in a room with a girl. They placed framed pictures over the slots, so behind every hanging picture, there was a slot. All you had to do was slide the picture to the side, and you had a great view of the action. Anyone in the room couldn’t see you looking in.

The first room attached to the room with the countertop and grill was the biggest and had the most slots in the walls. There was one slot where Tony could look in from behind the counter and other slots behind the framed pictures on the long hall wall leading to the other rooms. There were three rooms after the kitchen area. Guys never brought their girlfriends in those rooms; only girls picked up for one-nighters because we knew about the slots.

The club had a Halloween party in October 1986. I had been dating my girlfriend Lenora since the summer of 1984. We met down the Jersey shore, where she lived. She would come North and stay at her sister’s house in Bayonne on occasion, and this was one of those times. I would pick her up in New Jersey and drive back to Brooklyn for parties and other events. I picked her up and headed to the club.

Costumes were optional for the party but not for the members; we had to wear a costume. The whole neighborhood seemed like they were coming. We loved it because these parties brought in money for the club. The more money from parties, the less dues we had to come up with. And it always seemed like everybody owed their dues.

As a member of the club, each member, or at least a few, had to take turns as bartenders. I was working a shift at this party. Lenora knew this and was okay with it. She knew my friends and would hang out at the bar while I worked.

Lenora and I had issues that began that summer but were still going together. Boredom, in every part of our relationship, was part of it. We were headed for a breakup. I was surprised she made the trip north for the party.

When we arrived, the place was already packed. More than half the crowd wore costumes; some were nice and imaginative. We had a DJ, and he was blasting disco music. People were dancing and partying and having fun.

Lenora didn’t wear a costume that night. The weather was excellent for mid-October, and it was warmer than usual. I was dressed as a police officer, complete with a tie, badge, and toy gun. I looked pretty authentic, I thought.

Lenora wore a light-colored blouse over a black mini-skirt. She wore a black onyx necklace, which I gave her, and peep toe mules with 4” stiletto heels. She wore loop earrings that hung from an inch long chain in each ear. On her fingers were numerous gold rings. She looked very hot.

Lenora is 5’2”, thin and shapely. She had a pretty face, dark eyes, and highlighted brown hair that came well below her shoulders. She was a natural brunette but colored her hair. It was thick and bounced around when she walked. So did her breasts. She had 34 D-size breasts, with long nipples, which were always noticeably erect, especially in an air-conditioned room. She had a nice round ass too.

I got behind the bar, and Lenora found a spot and stood in the corner of the bar on the side where I was working. People were squashed all against the bar. I knew most of the people at the party but not everyone. People invite other friends, so you only know some people. There were a couple of guys right behind Lenora at the bar. I didn’t know them, and they were wearing costumes. One was in a pirate costume and wore a black eye mask over his eyes. He was pretty tall and wide and had a mustache. The other guy was dressed as a zombie and was pretty smashed. He was around the same size as the pirate, and his costume looked pretty good.

The music was so loud you really couldn’t hear very well. I could see Lenora getting annoyed with the crowd and the pushing and shoving, but I got her a drink quickly, and she was okay. We had three bartenders working at a time, so we had the party under control in that regard, even though we were drinking, too. I wasn’t too worried if I had a little too much because Lenora could drive. She didn’t usually drink too much.

Most of the people ordered easy-to-make drinks. We also made pitchers of kamikazes for people who wanted shots. It was a good way to get plastered quickly for a dollar a shot because they were easy to drink. Loads of people ordered them.

While working the bar, I noticed Lenora talking with the guy dressed like a zombie. It looked like he kept pushing into her because of all the people. She looked pissed, and it seemed like she told the guy that. He was pretty smashed and would laugh at her after she turned away from him.

The guy in the pirate costume ordered a few rounds of kamikazes occasionally and would hand them out to everyone around him, including Lenora. He was also talking with her. It looked like he was trying to make peace with her about his friend, and it looked like it was working. I even noticed him light one of her cigarettes.

There was always a line for the bathroom when we had parties because of the crowd, and there was only one bathroom. The club next door was open, so if the members needed a bathroom break, we could head in there. Tony was there when we had parties because he could make some money, too. The grill was open, and everyone was always hungry. Not everyone was allowed in there, though; only people Tony knew from the neighborhood or our club because of the smoking, among other things.