The Night We Did and Didn't Have

Last night we had tickets to go to Antwerp Mansion in Rusholme for a "Regression Session" pop-up nightclub.

We did study the event's Facebook page carefully and looked at the profile pictures of people who stated they were Going. All 447 of them. We decided that they were young, sexy club bunnies and everyone appeared 10 years younger than us with better make-up and less body fat.

We did analyse the situation, score our moods, do a Pros and Cons list of going, discuss travel arrangements, if we would or wouldn't like it, how much an Uber would cost at 3am and if our Prozac doses were correct...for a fucking HOUR AND A HALF.

We did reach a decision and changed the plan.

We did not go here:

We did not partake in this:

We did go here:

The local (and only) "rock" pub where we sat on benches that are encouraged to be graffitted on (someone had persistently scrawled COCKSUCKING THUNDERCUNT onto the wood) next to teenage Goth girls drinking water who whined about "hipster metalboys" (I don't know what these are. Please help me understand).

We did stand a metre away from one of the bands amongst a crowd of six who clapped self-consciously when Indie Band #57* finished a song. 

We did not change our minds and head to Rusholme. We did continue to here:

We did drink cider of many types. Brothers. Old Mout, Thatchers and local brews that The Fiancé likened to "like Hartley's making cider." We did win money on a fruit machine by bashing random buttons.

We did see a man in a Deadpool morph suit dancing camply beside women with walking sticks in front of a band who played hard rocked versions of David Bowie. We did not see ball pits, bouncy castles or glow sticks.

We did see three of my ex-clients sat on the pavements, trying to get money for food. I will not go into their details, but I knew they were hungry and did need that money for food. They chatted openly to me and The Fiancé about their housing situation. Quick summary: dangerous. 

We did not spend £150 on a Travelodge/Holiday Inn/Premier Inn room in Manchester just so that we could crash and not worry about bed for the night.

We did spend £20 in a Bolton takeaway on three pizzas and a chicken kebab (for one of the guys' dogs). We did walk for twenty minutes trying to find the ones who had swapped pitches. One guy we did have to track for awhile until we found him. He was able to go to where he goes to sleep and not have to make any more money that night. He would be able to feed his partner. He wouldn't get attacked tonight.

We did see Bolton's Street Angels (old men in High-Vis jackets) assisting drunken girls falling outside clubs. Girls with working phones and six friends to help them and probably at least the price of a 9 inch pizza each to get a taxi home. 

We did not see anyone talk to my clients. We did see people shout at them. We did not see Street Angels talk to them or stop beside them.

We did go back to the original pub and buy more cider. The Fiancé shambled out of the toilets after a long time, sat down and stated, 'I just used my trusty pound coin to carve FUCK JILLY** on the wall.' Then a passing man rubbed his head for good luck.

We did manage to sell one of the tickets for the thing we didn't do. We did not wish we'd been there instead.

We did go home, eat takeout and watch Family Guy.

We did not feel bad for being too afraid to go to a big fuck-off club night and opting instead for local pubs. We did not feel anything when we fell asleep. Except how good a bed feels when you've been out in the night air in the busy town centre. 

We did not take it for granted.


*Indie Band #57 was not their name, but I like it for a band name. I'll use it.
**Jilly is a false name for The Fiancé's old flame.

Bolton Food and Drink Festival

Enjoyed the splishy-splashy rain during the culinary delights of Bolton.

After being accosted by some amorous street performers as French chefs, The Boyfriend and I managed the swarms of people, puppies, and kids. There were Chinese noodles, Mexican nachos, Polish sausages, Spanish churros, Fish 'N' Rice, and unusual meat burgers. Plus artisan stalls selling handmade soaps (got a nice goat's milk and aloe vera bar that is supposedly very good for soothing skin), carved wooden figures, handmade jewellery, and, strangely, knock-off Adidas tracksuits with the logo replaced with the cannabis leaf and the word ADDICTED. 

I had a kangaroo burger, which apparently has 2% fat (all that jumping that Skippy does), but tasted very rich (apparently like venison?). 

I nipped into WHSmiths to grab a travel book for a holiday next year, and a little old member of staff on the basement floor saw me browsing for some time, saw me grab the book I wanted and make for the lift. She shouted at me to stop and asked where I was going. 

Me: Upstairs. To pay. 

Her: No. You pay here. 

Me: No, I'm getting some drinks upstairs as well.  

Her: You put it in this basket now. Before you go.

I dutifully put the book in the shopping basket and scowled all the way in the lift. I grabbed the bottles of pop and mentioned to the cashier I felt a little insulted that I'd been treated like a potential shoplifter. I said I'd regularly been in the shop to get books from the basement and preferred to pay in one hit upstairs so I could look at magazines and get my favoured energy drinks. I said I appreciated she was watching the store on a busy day, but frankly, an older couple or professionally-dressed person would not have been questioned (I have tattoos, wear jeans and have a fade on the side of my head). To my surprise, the cashier was angry and said, 'Oh, yeah, I know her,' and radioed for the manager who turned up straight away. I reiterated my confusion/anger and he also seemed angry. I basically summed it up as, 'I'm a professional adult who has no need or desire to shoplift and I very much resent the stereotyping.'

Bit odd. But there we go. Some older generations see me and think, 'Scruff.' Some older generations smile at me and say how much they like my tops. Mad. 

So, here's some pretty pictures to show how nice the rest of the day was.