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Mar. 15th, 2008 01:42 amI'm one of those irresponsible people who walk home after a night out. I think I got used to doing it when I used to get drunk and then decide I'd had enough half way through the evening andjust leave rather than argue with my friends about being boring. It was then consolidated through my years of being completely unable to afford a taxi home, and now it's habit as much as anything else. (Though I admit there's still an element of wanting to get away and be on my own after an evening with drunken people!)
Today though, walking home was rather horrible. The whole atmosphere was just wrong. There were ockets of unpleasant, rowdy people. Including a very drunk, russian? gentleman who was carrying out a violent argument via mobile phone (how funny that 'fuck you' is the same in any language!). Not a soul bothered me, spoke to me or even looked in my direction, but for the first time ever I felt... on edge.
I think in part his was influenced by the near blow up in the pub, when three big burly men were 'holding back' a fourth chap who very much wanted to kick the shit out of the trouble making runt. It didn't help that all this was going on 2 feet in front of me, when I was trapped behind a table and knew I couldn't get out of the way if I needed to!
Whole evening was rather surreal actually. We spent ages round our friends, didn't even get out till 10.30, then the first pub we walked into, usually friendly, music etc, had a live band playing. The three of us walked in, reasonably girly, not girlie girlie, but skirts and hair and make up etc, walked into a death thrash metal gig - and ordered Pimms! We were stared at as we walked in, and didn't stay long.
The second pub was *that* pub, the scary odd one you always notice but never ever been in... but I was desperate for the loo. It was so odd. The barman was great, the right side of flirty, made Annie a cup of tea (for free) just 'cos she was cheeky enough to ask. There were around 10 people serving themselves and others behind the bar. A man running a karaoke who clearly begrudged anyone touching his song books or microphone. A Diva barman/bottle collector, who every so often ran from behind the bar and started 'vogue'ing and shaking his booty.
We had the drama with all the boys being macho and posturing (and really quite scary). Strange but fun.
Now I'm faffing around on here instead of going to bed. I have another nght out tomorrow, a birthday meal in Norwich. Such a faff, bloody 60 mile round trip. I'm so anti social!
And I missed the Top Gear/Ground Force thing :(
Today though, walking home was rather horrible. The whole atmosphere was just wrong. There were ockets of unpleasant, rowdy people. Including a very drunk, russian? gentleman who was carrying out a violent argument via mobile phone (how funny that 'fuck you' is the same in any language!). Not a soul bothered me, spoke to me or even looked in my direction, but for the first time ever I felt... on edge.
I think in part his was influenced by the near blow up in the pub, when three big burly men were 'holding back' a fourth chap who very much wanted to kick the shit out of the trouble making runt. It didn't help that all this was going on 2 feet in front of me, when I was trapped behind a table and knew I couldn't get out of the way if I needed to!
Whole evening was rather surreal actually. We spent ages round our friends, didn't even get out till 10.30, then the first pub we walked into, usually friendly, music etc, had a live band playing. The three of us walked in, reasonably girly, not girlie girlie, but skirts and hair and make up etc, walked into a death thrash metal gig - and ordered Pimms! We were stared at as we walked in, and didn't stay long.
The second pub was *that* pub, the scary odd one you always notice but never ever been in... but I was desperate for the loo. It was so odd. The barman was great, the right side of flirty, made Annie a cup of tea (for free) just 'cos she was cheeky enough to ask. There were around 10 people serving themselves and others behind the bar. A man running a karaoke who clearly begrudged anyone touching his song books or microphone. A Diva barman/bottle collector, who every so often ran from behind the bar and started 'vogue'ing and shaking his booty.
We had the drama with all the boys being macho and posturing (and really quite scary). Strange but fun.
Now I'm faffing around on here instead of going to bed. I have another nght out tomorrow, a birthday meal in Norwich. Such a faff, bloody 60 mile round trip. I'm so anti social!
And I missed the Top Gear/Ground Force thing :(
