They went out every Friday to The Club. Nobody knew why it was called The Club as there was no membership fee and anyone was allowed in. It was probably called The Club as it had always been The Club, it was as simple as that.
He got himself a pint and a half for his wife - women weren't meant to drink pints, despite what some of the youngsters got up to.
They sat and waited. There was a turn on. There were turns on most Fridays and tonight's was special. It was a tribute act. They never had tribute acts. It was usually some bloke with a guitar who couldn't carry a tune.
The woman took to the stage in a Tina Turner outfit and began singing Tina Turner songs. She looked and sounded exactly like Tina Turner to the point where some people wondered if it actually was Tina Turner.
"Come on, we're going. There's no need for this filth," said the man, illogically upset by the short dress and gyrating.
"No, I'm staying," said his wife.
Her husband was furious.
Tina Turner sang about second hand emotions.
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