A tale of two nights out. In one.
Part 1. Abbeys wine bar and restaurant; a little gem of civilization in Cod City. Taxied in to town in torrential rain and high humidity; washed and poshed, clean shaven, hair at the perfect length, nerves in the back still buzzing from the afternoon's abuse; to be honest girls, I was pretty bloody gorgeous last night. Nice Pinot Grig' for me and a Merlot for Kaz, quality scoff. Apparently it's not the sort of joint she's ever gets taken too back home, suppose then in the words of Hunter S Thompson "I suppose you're ready then ! ! ! ". Nice meal as you'd expect from Abbeys, coffee and conversation, then off to the Barge for a bevvie.
Part 2. Had washed, poshed and sartorial eleganced quite cunningly, a choice of outfit that worked in civilisation and also wouldn't be out of place in the grungier places I fancied for finishing up in. So it's off to the Barge for music and beer, then off to the rock club after chucking out time for loud music, Newcastle Brown ale and safety with a bunch of "sweet arsed freaks" to quote the late Ian Dury thus undoing all my expensive civilization of earlier. Kaz isn't one of my burds, never has been, never will be but she's known me as a mate for years and seems to know a thing or two about Shadey handling that certain people we know who can lay claim to knowing me best should have been able to suss out far better than they did. From time to time at the rock club, the stresses of current life would reach out for me, for a moment I wouldn't really be there anymore, miles away; suppose from outside, the thousand yard stare would have kicked in. Kaz handles this with a grin, a poke in the ribs and a drag to the dancefloor. No drama, no alarms, no marding for hours, no saving it up for use in an arguement later. Maybe I should print a user guide for girlfriends with this friendly information and other vital maintenance tips in it?
Wobbled off at chucking out time, jumped in a cab and headed home as one does. At some point, the earth rotates, the sun comes up above the horizon and so do I. Well, metaphorically speaking, you understand. Still sniffled to hell, Newcastle Brown ale is working it's evil plans and about that I should really draw a curtain and probably open a window too.
Part 1. Abbeys wine bar and restaurant; a little gem of civilization in Cod City. Taxied in to town in torrential rain and high humidity; washed and poshed, clean shaven, hair at the perfect length, nerves in the back still buzzing from the afternoon's abuse; to be honest girls, I was pretty bloody gorgeous last night. Nice Pinot Grig' for me and a Merlot for Kaz, quality scoff. Apparently it's not the sort of joint she's ever gets taken too back home, suppose then in the words of Hunter S Thompson "I suppose you're ready then ! ! ! ". Nice meal as you'd expect from Abbeys, coffee and conversation, then off to the Barge for a bevvie.
Part 2. Had washed, poshed and sartorial eleganced quite cunningly, a choice of outfit that worked in civilisation and also wouldn't be out of place in the grungier places I fancied for finishing up in. So it's off to the Barge for music and beer, then off to the rock club after chucking out time for loud music, Newcastle Brown ale and safety with a bunch of "sweet arsed freaks" to quote the late Ian Dury thus undoing all my expensive civilization of earlier. Kaz isn't one of my burds, never has been, never will be but she's known me as a mate for years and seems to know a thing or two about Shadey handling that certain people we know who can lay claim to knowing me best should have been able to suss out far better than they did. From time to time at the rock club, the stresses of current life would reach out for me, for a moment I wouldn't really be there anymore, miles away; suppose from outside, the thousand yard stare would have kicked in. Kaz handles this with a grin, a poke in the ribs and a drag to the dancefloor. No drama, no alarms, no marding for hours, no saving it up for use in an arguement later. Maybe I should print a user guide for girlfriends with this friendly information and other vital maintenance tips in it?
Wobbled off at chucking out time, jumped in a cab and headed home as one does. At some point, the earth rotates, the sun comes up above the horizon and so do I. Well, metaphorically speaking, you understand. Still sniffled to hell, Newcastle Brown ale is working it's evil plans and about that I should really draw a curtain and probably open a window too.
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 9:52 am
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