There's Room for One More
Trevor came in with a hamper and a rug,
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There's Room for One More
This week's camp disco-pop roast follows Trevor, who arrives at the club with a wicker hamper, a red gingham blanket and a plan for a lovely sit-down. He takes the middle of the dance floor, spreads out the cheese and the rosé, and starts patting the tiles for people to budge up. Nothing he does is rude. That is the problem: it is all hospitality, and hospitality is the end of a dance floor.
The sound is the one this channel always brings: slap bass, brass stabs, handclaps and a stacked gang hook built for shouting with a paper plate in each hand.
Budge up! Budge up! Trevor's got a blanket and a bottle of rosé Budge up! Budge up! There's a paper plate of brie coming your way
The verses bring the evidence. Forks are handed out. The DJ is asked, kindly, to turn it down because people are catching up. A stranger takes one plate and works through the whole cheese board. Somebody's heel goes through the hummus. By half past two, the only clean square of floor in the building is the one under the blanket.
Put it on for the friend who always brings a hamper, for the picnic that starts at eleven at night, or for the group chat that has quietly agreed to sit this one out.
Nobody is thrown out and nobody is told off. The floor just fills up with people sitting down, and there is no recovering from that. Trevor gets the whole room to himself, and the cleaner, who has seen everything, sits down on the blanket and asks whether that is brie.
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