Hurrah Hot Foot

Back in the late 70s, I was working at Hurrah as security. A good number of the punk disco's male clientele came from the bridge and tunnel suburbs of New Jersey and Long Island. The gay owner thought that they were cute and these tough boys were easy pickings after they dropped a few 'ludes. The poor things collapsed in the stupor and I ordered the bouncers to arrange the 714 zombies on the banquettes holding hands and linking arms like live sculptures. At the end of the night, I'd wake the sleeping beauties with a hot foot ie sticking wooden matches into their sneakers and then light then. Damn, Nikes burned fast, as anything made out of plastic and the boys' feet stamped the floor, as the flames did their magic. None of them got hurt and we had a good laugh. Times were so simple back then.