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Saturday 15 October 2005

Hung. over.

Well, perhaps not in the literal sense of the word, but I will tell you what happened and you'll see what I mean.

Remember that Birmingham dance? My friend Ph.D. texted me last night to say she wasn't going to be able to go anymore, so I phoned another person who'd offered a lift to ask if he was still going. Turns out, he wasn't going anymore either. Just as I was looking at the possibility of another Friday night alone (pro: I could put on my pjs and just eat peanut butter all night long, con: I would be spending yet another Friday night alone) he said that he was going to a birthday gathering for someone I knew, and very kindly invited me to come along. So, faced with the party or peanut butter, I went with the party.

We met up and I asked him where we were going. Keep in mind that this guy is from Leeds and talks fast, and my ear for accents is sometimes pathetic. So I only catch like every other word.

Me: So where are we going?

Leeds: Booblidee booblideee bloo meet oop an' then garumdy darumdy Hinckley boogleface Seventies bah.

Me: Sorry, did you say Seventies bar?

Leeds: Yoop.

Me: Is that like, the name of something or does that mean a bar with a Seventies theme?

Leeds: Bahwitaseventiestheme.

Me: Okay . . . .

We meet up with the others and head to Hinckley, where this mystical Seventies bah is. There are 8 of us total, all Mormon kids.

We get there and walk into your basic, dark, smoke-filled bar. And we're pretty much the only people there. A few of us order soft drinks (I don't because I don't actually pay money for warm 4-oz glasses of Coke, thanks) and we proceed to stand around. I am increasingly confused, by this point, but as the outsider I keep it to myself. My questions are these:

1. Um, what the crap are we doing here???
2. Is this really how the Birthday Girl wants to spend her night--standing around not drinking in an empty bar that reeks of cigarette smoke and doesn't have soap in the women's toilets?
3. And if all she wanted was to go to a bar for her birthday, why did we have to drive all the way over to this one, which has cops patrolling the front of it? There are plenty of bars where we live.
4. Does anybody think this is actually fun? What is fun about this!?!

But then it got better. More people started showing up, and it turns out that there was a second, larger room with a dance floor. That's where the 70s music was playing. So we headed back there and started dancing. And that was fun. They did some 70s line dances (to songs like "Disco Inferno" and "Hot Stuff") and then handed out goodie bags to those who joined it. Mine had a tiara that lit up, so I wore that. It was funny, too, to have some songs come on that I'd never heard, but that everyone else knew by heart.

When I wasn't Lost in the Dance, I had a very interesting time just observing things, like The Drunk People. I mean yes, everyone was drinking, but most people were just there with their friends & dancing when they felt like it and doing whatever. There were some notable exceptions, however.

White t-shirt guy: I really truly do not know if he was simply drunk, or if he had some sort of disability, or if we were looking at a combination of the two. (This was true of several of the people I saw last night, so maybe it was just a drunk-and-just-not-bright thing.) He would lurp around without ever speaking and try to dance up against different women, who would then politely shrug him off. But there was this one girl that he wanted to dance with very, very badly. Or at least, he wanted to dance with her boobs very, very badly. She rebuffed him several times, and one of her tall girlfriends even shoved him once, but 10 seconds later he would be back, not even bothering to look at her face, just trying to dance with her boobs. Granted, they were very much on display, but still. Try to show some subtlety.

Babyface: He fancied one of the girls in our group at first, but she really wasn't going for any of that. So he would move from group to group, dancing away. I eventually saw him dirty dancing with a lady who looked like she could be his grandma. Then with another one. And another one. So it seems he found his niche market.

The Pole-Dancer: This lady appeared to be in her 40s, but she showed up in one of those tiny little mini skirts and went up to the stage area, which is I guess where you go if you want attention. Anyway, I started laughing when I saw her dancing up there, because it was like watching a high-school principal suddenly start a dance routine from Chicago like she's Velma Kelly or something.

One of the guys in our group asked if I was worried about being picked up by an English bloke.

Me: Not too worried. I mean, don't I just say, "Piss off"?

Guy: (startled pause) Yeah, that'd do it.

Me: Well, is there a better thing to say?

Guy: Nah, that's good.

Me: Okay. And if that doesn't work, I'll just tell them you're my boyfriend, so be sure to look threatening if I point at you.

Guy: Are you trying to flirt with me, then?

Me: Shoot, you saw right through that!

No one ever did try to hit on me, even though I had my line ready and everything. I guess already being in a group with guys works as a deterrent, as does sneering.

We got there at 9 and didn't leave until nearly 2. When we finally did walk out into the blessed, blessed cool air, I realized that I couldn't hear anything. My ears felt like they'd been stuffed with cotton. I also had two dents in my skull from the tiara, and my voice was hoarse. We went back to someone's apartment and ate pizza and chips (the kind from the chips shop, which were so much better than I remember them being) and choc ices til 3:30, which is when everyone started to crash. Then I got to go home and got into bed around 4am.

As I got undressed while half asleep, I realized that everything reeked of cigarette smoke, including my hair and my bra. Nasty. At 9am I woke up to the sound of three men from the ward finishing the shower installation in the bathroom.

Point is, I went clubbing, I had a great time, and I had no idea that these Brit Mormons partied so hard. If they do this every weekend it just might kill me off. And now I'm going to go eat Chinese food and watch the new Pride & Prejudice with my landlord, because I think that's maybe all I'm capable of right now.

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