Grumpy Bastards Big Night Out.....................
Recently, we went to watch a friend playing in a local ska band. (Called Rudi's message since you ask...very good live). Which is great...'cos a good time is always guarenteed.....the venue however, is not great. The pretentiously, if historically correctly named, Corn Exchange....I'm sure there are many others....
Unfortunately for yours truly, things have changed since I last ventured into a "trendy" nightspot, or I have, or probably both.........
Upon entering,we were met with wall to wall tuneless, thumping, rave type technoshite, which the sweating DJ somehow thought would pleasantly accompany an evening of ska, the dick.
After 30 minutes of brain torture, I was on the verge of admitting to any and all of the crimes of the last hundred years and had a healthy new respect for the powers of Patrick McGoohan, our hero from "The Prisoner.
However, the actual entertainment began shortly after my 5th pint, which was about right for maximum enjoyment.(Drunk...but retaining some equilibrium, but not too much decorum)
Unfortunately, it was soon apparent, that I am sadly prehistoric, when it comes to rules of behaviour in such an establishment.
Firstly.."Excuse me please" was generally met with a complete lack of recognition, or a stare indicating that I was a kangaroo at a koala bears picninc..... it appears that the modern method of passing through a crowded alehouse, is to bend your knees to obtain a lower centre of gravity, then charge at full flight, like an Ireland flanker(that's FLANKER) destroying the England defensive line at Croke Park. (That's rugby, for the uninitiated). This method is met by neither angry stares or comments, but appears to be expected. Which is ok, but does result in everybody wearing a heavy coating of miixed alcoholic beverages - short people, look out!
Secondly...I noticed that the mating habits of the more or less spotted male, have changed considerably. No longer do they have to invent new and witty chat up lines (cheesy and stupid to the females reading this....obviously!) Instead the leering drunk bounces his way drooling and dripping, to his intended target. Once there, he holds his arms aloft(Beer in one hand, fag in the other) like the scorer of a stupendous cup final goal, and girates his hips violently, leering and dripping all the while. Apparently, this is liable to moisten all the "ladies" within a 3 mile radius..or at least he seemed to think so.
At this point, the 3 fuck off rule comes into play.
If the target says "Fuck off" once...she's probably just being playful and wants you to rub against her.
Twice, just playing hard to get and would really like you to shove your arse into her because she wants you so bad.
And thrice? She obviously prefers girls, so just means try her mate,(Can't see the logic there...) then anyone in the vicinity with a protruding chest, until someone says "Let's go to my place fo a shag big boy"
Does it work? I've no idea, but somehow I doubt it's effectiveness...........perhaps it depends on your arse..................
The only evidence of female mating ritual that I witnessed. was one buxom young wench who I overheard saying " Do you think my tit's have got bigger" This, however, certainly worked, as the young man in question soon held two voluptious handfuls, while the wench shouted "Get yer hands of!" Though I don't think she meant it as she pushed herself towards him, and when last seen was licking the soles of his feet, via his tonsils..............
And yes.....I do realise that I've become a grumpy old bastard.........and do you know...I quite like being one.................
10 comments:
Hmmm, It seems things are the same all over. Why I prefer to do my drinking on the internet. No cigarette smoke & no obnoxious drunks(except for me). Well, I take that last part back. But, THEY can always be deleted.
That's why it's called the Porn Exchange, dear!
The gig was good though, wasn't it, I danced?
i have to say Frenchies are a little more polite at the old 'barging through a crowd with a pint'. Then again seeing as nobody bloody moves you can pick your route out from the bar!
I think that guy's approach might work. It would all depend on how much the girl in question had been drinking and, of course, on her level of self esteem.
I love The Prisoner too, by the way. I never understood the last episode though. Time to watch them all again I think.
How refreshing to read about some of your own experiences for a change, Confucious. To quote you, "More please!" :-)
Absolute mystery to me all this. Though Confucious, it would appear that getting back into the 'groove' will be a bit of a culture shock for a short bald man of your age ;-)
Confucious short and bald?! Not bloody likely! He's a magnificent specimen, I just know it.
I think I might go back to drinking home alone in virtual reality L>T
Is that good or bad Verillion...good I think........
You're not alone there, but don't worry, I don't think we were supposed to Steve.........
As soon as something happens to me Susan, I'll be on the case.........
I'll have you know that I'm only short for my weight Saaleha....and what do you mean "my age"....I don't look a day over 25.............I look lots of days over 25.................
Susan, thank you....you're absolutely right of course....I can only admire your intuition...........
Susan, dear, why else would someone portray themselves as a bald midget whose skin is parting from the flesh? You let us know that you have beautiful albeit pink eyes. As for meself, well I say nothing ;)
Stopped by to visit and couldn't resist this post...
You know, you're in much better company as a grumpy old bastard, with the rest of those who've learned to think with their brains instead of their hormones, than you were in the club... surrounded by the future of our world, in what they believe to be some of their finest years and moments... (deep sigh). I went clubbing recently only to be shocked, disheartened, and disgusted.
As for mating rituals... I have a finely developed deterant that wards off would be mates; my sister dubbed it the 'cockroach look'. Apparently there is an expression that naturally and instantly spreads across my face when I am approached by someone I do not fancy, and it leaves not a shred of doubt in the mind of the oncomer as to my opinions, intentions, or feelings.
It is an involuntary expression, one I have not been able to replicate in the mirror to see what it looks like. My sis tells me it's the same look I'd get if I saw a cockroach crawling across the floor towards me. Apropos... don't you think?
Methinks you must have given similar looks during this night of debauchery.
Enjoyed the post, laughed and empathized. Very much like your blog, I am adding a link to it on my page; this is one I will want to come back to more than once.
Best,
Scarlett
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