A long tale about a short period of time. A Night In Leicester
I told Paula I would meet her at JC’s, the nostalgia pub at 7:00. When I arrived I was asked for ID, allot has changed in Leicester, it used to be an underage drinkers playground. I had my passport and as I’m actually 20 so I had a double vodka and diet coke. I’m a health conscious kinda of gal.
I sat down and waited for Paula. In the half hour it took her to arrive…late, I managed to get smoke in my eye. I alone it looked like I was quietly crying to myself or more embarrassingly it looked like I’d stupidly managed to hold my cigarette in a way that allowed smoke to get in my eye.
So Paula arrived eventually looking beautiful as she always does after being dumped. Heart break suits her she should do it more often. Unfortunately with Paula came two men in their forties who’d taken a liking to her knee high boots. They actually said they would worship them, I believed they would. She’d explained she was meeting a friend that she hadn’t seen in a while (me) so they probably shouldn’t follow her to the pub, this didn’t deter them. I suppose they were hoping there might be another girl in knee high boots, there wasn’t, it was most definitely just me.
So they were there now and to impress Paula they had to buy ME ME ME a drink as well. That’s just good manners and they were sleazy enough to realise good manners counted. I had another double because what’s free can’t get you drunk.
So I conducted a conversation with Paula while ignoring them, I didn’t have anything to gain by being good mannered. When they tried to talk to us I found staring at the ceiling prevented their interjections from becoming too regular. While I wasn’t looking at the ceiling I was giving the barmen exasperated glances. You can’t bar people for just being annoying. I thought maybe they could if the person they were annoying was me. Paula seemed more tolerant of the situation and actually bothered to answer some of the questions they asked. Mostly worrying things like “Where do you live?”
Eventually after asking if we wanted to go to another pub with them and being declined (the dodgey one near Retribution, I might have said yes if they’d suggested the gay bar across they road) they realised we didn’t really want them to be there. They told me I looked like a very sad girl, a sad girl who probably thinks too much, he kissed me on the cheek, I wiped it off before he left. Apparently if we’d been friendly enough to stick out the night with them we’d of had some laughs, we probably would of at their expense but that’s just mean.
I went to the bar to get another dink once they’d gone. The bartender said I’d looked as though I was having the time of my life. He gave me a fancy straw with a paper strawberry on it. This cheered me up again. I finally got to hear Paula’s tale in peace.
She’s a sad bunny at the moment but that’s what going out with then being dumped by boys bellow your station does to you.
After I left her at the bus stop (don’t worry she text me when she got home safe) I met Kate, Charlie, Nat, Amy and Emily at Firefly.
From there we went to this horrendous but cheap pub. Here I decided that I wanted to never ever become a desperate 40 something with died hair and gold jewellery. I also decided that I never wanted to settle for a man who calls me “darlin” and makes obscene comments about me to his mates when I disappear to the loo.
Then Leicester's Mosh. All the pretty Indie boys were out. I don’t know how they can bear being somewhere so sweaty, the things it must do to their hair! We stayed downstairs most of the night because they play funny vintage music and you can pretend your dancing is ironic so nobody sees that it’s just bad.
You too can see the pretty people who hang out in Mosh at http://www.moshnightclub.com/gallery.php
I got drunk enough to be unable to roll a cigarette but remained sober enough to walk and talk. I think this is a good balance.
It was a fun night. I like nights that have no agenda. The only things that need to be achieved are drinking, dancing and avoiding men who tell you their career is tracking down foxy ladies. Someone had obviously been listening to too much Jimmy Hendrix.
When it was time to leave and the lights went up…we left. Got chips, got a cab, talked but I don’t remember what about or if I was actually contributing vocally or just in my head.
And then sleep.
Then morning.
Then the bus.
Now at home
Hung over slightly.
Simon text me today saying “he hoped I’d behaved” what’s that mean, it sounds exactly like what my Dad would say.
I have to go check on my yummy yummy butternut squash. If I burned it I’d be so upset.
So this tiny tale is over.
The End
Over and Out
Good day…I said GOOD DAY.
I sat down and waited for Paula. In the half hour it took her to arrive…late, I managed to get smoke in my eye. I alone it looked like I was quietly crying to myself or more embarrassingly it looked like I’d stupidly managed to hold my cigarette in a way that allowed smoke to get in my eye.
So Paula arrived eventually looking beautiful as she always does after being dumped. Heart break suits her she should do it more often. Unfortunately with Paula came two men in their forties who’d taken a liking to her knee high boots. They actually said they would worship them, I believed they would. She’d explained she was meeting a friend that she hadn’t seen in a while (me) so they probably shouldn’t follow her to the pub, this didn’t deter them. I suppose they were hoping there might be another girl in knee high boots, there wasn’t, it was most definitely just me.
So they were there now and to impress Paula they had to buy ME ME ME a drink as well. That’s just good manners and they were sleazy enough to realise good manners counted. I had another double because what’s free can’t get you drunk.
So I conducted a conversation with Paula while ignoring them, I didn’t have anything to gain by being good mannered. When they tried to talk to us I found staring at the ceiling prevented their interjections from becoming too regular. While I wasn’t looking at the ceiling I was giving the barmen exasperated glances. You can’t bar people for just being annoying. I thought maybe they could if the person they were annoying was me. Paula seemed more tolerant of the situation and actually bothered to answer some of the questions they asked. Mostly worrying things like “Where do you live?”
Eventually after asking if we wanted to go to another pub with them and being declined (the dodgey one near Retribution, I might have said yes if they’d suggested the gay bar across they road) they realised we didn’t really want them to be there. They told me I looked like a very sad girl, a sad girl who probably thinks too much, he kissed me on the cheek, I wiped it off before he left. Apparently if we’d been friendly enough to stick out the night with them we’d of had some laughs, we probably would of at their expense but that’s just mean.
I went to the bar to get another dink once they’d gone. The bartender said I’d looked as though I was having the time of my life. He gave me a fancy straw with a paper strawberry on it. This cheered me up again. I finally got to hear Paula’s tale in peace.
She’s a sad bunny at the moment but that’s what going out with then being dumped by boys bellow your station does to you.
After I left her at the bus stop (don’t worry she text me when she got home safe) I met Kate, Charlie, Nat, Amy and Emily at Firefly.
From there we went to this horrendous but cheap pub. Here I decided that I wanted to never ever become a desperate 40 something with died hair and gold jewellery. I also decided that I never wanted to settle for a man who calls me “darlin” and makes obscene comments about me to his mates when I disappear to the loo.
Then Leicester's Mosh. All the pretty Indie boys were out. I don’t know how they can bear being somewhere so sweaty, the things it must do to their hair! We stayed downstairs most of the night because they play funny vintage music and you can pretend your dancing is ironic so nobody sees that it’s just bad.
You too can see the pretty people who hang out in Mosh at http://www.moshnightclub.com/gallery.php
I got drunk enough to be unable to roll a cigarette but remained sober enough to walk and talk. I think this is a good balance.
It was a fun night. I like nights that have no agenda. The only things that need to be achieved are drinking, dancing and avoiding men who tell you their career is tracking down foxy ladies. Someone had obviously been listening to too much Jimmy Hendrix.
When it was time to leave and the lights went up…we left. Got chips, got a cab, talked but I don’t remember what about or if I was actually contributing vocally or just in my head.
And then sleep.
Then morning.
Then the bus.
Now at home
Hung over slightly.
Simon text me today saying “he hoped I’d behaved” what’s that mean, it sounds exactly like what my Dad would say.
I have to go check on my yummy yummy butternut squash. If I burned it I’d be so upset.
So this tiny tale is over.
The End
Over and Out
Good day…I said GOOD DAY.