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20th May 2016
11:13am BST

Me, 15 years old and drunk on power (and vodka)[/caption]
What followed was the most unexpected and unacceptable period of ~work~ ever. In total I spent four months of every summer in the years between 2008-2012 working at a nightclub in San Antonio, Ibiza.
My duties included organising guest lists, handing out drink tokens in the VIP area, managing a team of ticket sellers (all of whom were older than me), and scooting around on a clapped-out moped promoting events.
Not bad for a little'un, eh? Here's what I learned.
Me, dressed as SpongeBob SquarePants, obvs[/caption]
Ibiza is split in half between the messy "English side" full of obliterated kids, and the more bohemian "German side", where middle aged Euro-adults spend thousands of pounds a week for the luxury of a remote villa overlooking a beach.
Living in Ibiza, you get to experience both cultures, as well as the stalwarts of the Spanish island that seem to disappear at the start of every season when they hear rumours that "the British are coming". Sun, sea, sand and a constant stream of sexed-up holidaymakers makes for an insane atmosphere.
Working in a nightclub in Ibiza is unlike anything else, because you are constantly surrounded by people who have severely lowered inhibitions, even for the club business. It's not uncommon to see people dancing in the street to no music in the middle of the day, which can work wonders for your mental health. When you first visit the island, the madness can be overwhelming. Once you've been living there for a few months, absolutely nothing seems out of the ordinary.
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The sun sets over Mambo Beach, taken by myself[/caption]
Me riding my illegal moped with a mate, the only way to travel[/caption]
Working in Ibiza means that even when times get hard, nobody will feel sorry for you - no matter how detached from reality, family and friends you feel.
Admittedly, it's probably pretty hard for people stuck in rainy Britain to have sympathy for the guy complaining about his really cool job in the sun.
In reality, for most workers living in Ibiza is a constant grind between scrapping together enough money to eat, and trying to have enough useable clothes to wear one day after the next.
That's me in the middle, age 15, trying ecstasy for the first time...[/caption]
If they haven't met their arrest quota for the month, it's easier to stop and search club staff on the way home from work than it is to round up drunk holidaymakers. Once I was even cuffed and hit with a stick because the club manager over the road informed the police I was a coke dealer. We got shut down temporarily and the other club knicked half our queue.
It would also be disingenuous of me to write this article without touching on the rampant drug use (and abuse) that is considered normal in the Balearics during the summer. In a world where everyone is constantly upbeat, uptempo and shoving devil's dandruff up their noses, it can be hard to maintain a firm grasp on reality. When taking drugs is the norm it seems insane to be sober.
Many people who work long-term in Ibiza tend to return to the UK with the demeanour of PTSD-riddled Vietnam vets. But hey, thems just the breaks.
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Me and Pritchard from 'Dirty Sanchez' (left); Random blurry phone pic (right)[/caption]
All in all, working in an Ibiza nightclub is a dream come true for a young person. But when you return to rain-soaked England, don't expect anyone to care about the Alice in Wonderland summer you've had.
Even fellow Ibiza-goers will tell you that you were wrong to have taken the trip, and that you "should have gone last year instead" or that the "pills were WAY better back in <Insert random year here>."
It doesn't matter, though. Chances are you won't remember much anyway.Explore more on these topics: