Jonola14

"Right, I'm only coming out for a couple and I'm definitely NOT getting p*ssed" I stated to Alex MacH who had been trying to persuade me to go out on Friday night.

Upon arrival at the bar, I was presented with a shot glass filled with a clear liquid. "Here, drink this" Alex said, as several pairs of eyes turned to stare at me, including the lovely Julia's. SO, I necked the drink and took my place at the table, a mild burning sensation in the back of my throat. "That was Polish Firewater" Alex said, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh right" I said, "and...." Alex smirked once more. "It's 100% alcohol". "Sh*t" I said and progressed to while away the latter part of the evening dancing with a 30 year old lap dancer from Slough. Marvellous.

Then Saturday came, and I woke up fully clothed on my bed (both shoes still on - sure sign of an excellent night). After an afternoon of guitar playing and general recovery, I motored down to Cranleigh for a party at Simon H's house. After several hours of abusing Simon and his entire family, Shaun H attempting to tip my curry down my clean shirt, and finding out that the good looking girls there were only 15, I wandered home at 2.45am.

It was a mild night, but slightly misty and deadly quiet. Not a soul stirred, I could hear the wind whistling through the trees, rustling the summer leaves and birds nestled in the gorse. I ambled through the short-cut route past the church, my mind flitting to summer holidays, relaxing and sipping cocktails in the warm tropical sun. 'DONNNGGGG' went the church bells, at an odd 2.52am, replacing all peaceful thoughts with images of being bludgeoned to death by the grim reaper and his midnight cronies. I hastened my walk, consistently checking behind me for mad axemen and poltergeists, praying that I'd make it to the main road and a car would light the road with its beams.

When Sunday arrived and I finally regained my sanity, I went back round to Simon H's for some cold curry - only to find out that he'd thrown up earlier that morning and had started back on the beer. He is a bad person.

Open Mic night in Watford beckoned in the evening, so having had a few beers and topped up the excessive alcohol levels in my blood from the previous two nights, I introduced myself to the new Open Mic night host in the bar, and promptly got up to sing a few songs. The repertoire consisted of: The Drag (BBC Snooker Tune), mixed into 3am (Matchbox 20), followed by Postman Pat, which I fused into Good Riddance (Green Day), then Flash (Queen - including all movie lyrics), the Bare Necessities and then bringing the house down with Fraggle Rock. Utterly splendid, and the good looking girl on the next door table was very complimentary.

So, a 30 year old lapdancer and a come-on from a good looking girl? And I haven't heard a dicky bird about it! Shameful. But very well done, especially for fusing Good Riddance to the tail end of Postman Pat. Genius.

Thank you. Just wait for NEXT weekend.....

June 11, 2003

WEEKEND