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August 25, 2003

MANCHESTER

"Let's go to Manchester this weekend" Alex said to me a few days ago - so we did, and I was fully expecting to be mugged several times, have my car stolen and burnt out, and then get stabbed by some skin-headed Manc yob.

The fun began at Watford Gap service station (which is a long way from Watford by the way). There was a group of six Arabs kneeling down and praying, but from our angle it looked like they were worshipping the waste bin right in front of them.....

Anyway, we turned up at Manchester and headed straight into town. What Alex didn't tell me was that there was a gay festival in the centre of Manchester this weekend and it would be highly likely that we would see blokes openly snogging in the street. Imagine my shock, then, when a man dressed in a pair of spikey underpants and very little else wandered past.....

Having recovered from this, and sternly demanded an explanation from Alex, we sauntered into an Indie music club to sample Manchester's reputed music quality. There were some odd Indie haircuts in there too, one in particular made the guy look like one of the main characters in Dude Where's My Car and I was seconds short of pointing at him and going 'DUDE!' in an irritatingly bad impression. There was also the woman who just stared at us from her seat right next to where we were stood. Then her shoe fell off and I forced Alex to put it back on for her.

Saturday came and we headed for the City of Manchester stadium for the Man City v Portsmouth football match - the first Premiership game in the new stadium and we were both rather impressed. When Portsmouth scored and we all went mad, it was a fantastic moment - our heckling of the Man City fans was clearly not appreciated, as mid-celebration, the guy directly in front of me got hit on the head with a coin thrown from above. Determined not to let such hooliganism get us down, we sang louder and wound them up for another 70 minutes, until they equalised in the dying seconds - but it was worth it to hear the roar of 40,000 fans.

After the match (and a three mile walk), we headed for Pizza Express. This was a three-storey Pizza Express with the door on the centre level. Having finished our Sloppy Guiseppes, we paid up and headed for the exit, where I was asked one of the best questions I have ever been asked. As I opened the door, a man walked in and said to me "are they finished, the musicians?". "I wasn't aware there were any, given that this is a pizza restaurant" I said in return. "Oh" he said, and walked in anyway.

Then we had a beer with Vicki, who I had never met before. As the topic of the gay festival cropped up, I had one of my opinionated moments and declared that all the homosexuals should have their festival in one locked building so we don't have to look at them. She was visibly shocked, so I didn't add the 'and gassed' conclusion. Amusingly, and clearly forgetting that I had moments earlier offended her, I then announced that the girl behind the cloakroom counter had clearly once been a man. I never learn.

We also met up with Johnny D who was on a mission having split up from his girlfriend of five years. We abused a live band, and our livers, and I ended up sleepwalking the streets of Manchester at 3am!

SO, weekend over and I didn't get stabbed. A pleasant surprise.

Posted by jonola14 at August 25, 2003 6:32 PM