Reminiscence of a callow youth.

By Len Morgan

It was in 1962 when I was 16 and the singer with an above-average Rock Group.  We played Dance Halls, Weddings, Pubs & Clubs.

We were engaged to perform at a pub in Canning Town London, named: The Customs House Hotel; locals called it ‘The Steps’.  It sounded like a posh venue, we arrived and set up our gear on a small stage in what appeared to be a large hall.  The ‘L’ shaped bar was down one side & end, the Ladies & Gents were at the other end the stage was opposite the Entrance/Exit (depending whether you were coming or going). 

We played the popular music of the day and it was well received.  We had a short break had a beer & sandwich then continued our set. A particularly good looking woman probably in her twenties, long blond hair, reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe, slim dressed in leopard skin tights and top (maybe one piece) stood at the bar being chatted up by several young men.

“Boy she’s a looker, I could really fancy her…” I said to our bass player, Steve.

“Mmm I wouldn’t say no, either.” He said.

We carried on playing then half an hour later; she went into the Gents toilets.

“Gee’s” I said.  Steve laughed nervously.

At our next break a local told us ‘The Steps’ was near to the docks & an infamous meeting place for Gay’s (not the word he used).

Towards the end of the evening, a fight broke out between two men over that very girl!?  The one we had been fantasising over. 

When we were relating the experience with a friend, a few days later, he burst out laughing… 

“You played 'The Step’s'?  It’s only the roughest pub in London!  They didn’t smash up your gear at the end of the night? Well, you had a lucky escape, that’s all I can say…”

To us ‘The Customs House Hotel’ sounded like a really posh venue.  We never went back, and it closed down in the 1980s.  Such is life…