Super Vixen
Someone told me recently that I've become a crappy storyteller as of late and I guess I can't really disagree with that statement. I haven't been good about updating my blog regularly and I keep using the whole "nothing exciting happens in my life anymore" thing as an excuse for why I don't have anything fun to write about. But I guess that's the thing. Not many people every really have mega-cool news to report, it's just a matter of me giving you the right kind of details that you might find funny/interesting in the context of my life.This same person asked me what I did last Saturday night, to which I replied, "Oh, nothing much. Just went out for a couple of drinks with JP." With much prying, poking, provoking, and prodding, I managed to come up with a bit more story-meat and managed to flesh out the details:
Last Saturday, JP and I went out for a couple of drinks and instead of going into town, we decided on going into the student-y part of Manchester for cheap drinks and a change of scenery.
The first place we went was a typical joint populated by the 18- and 19-year old undergrads who should have been studying for their final exams, but hey, this is Britain so let's drink instead. For the first time in my social life, I felt OLD. Everyone around me was engaged in the whole "chug! chug! chug!" mentality that is so characteristic of teenage boys as well as the "if I dress in something reeeeeeally skanky, maybe no one will notice that I look like I still belong in high school?" mindset of the age-matched females. Hooray for bad judgment!
We soon left hormone-palooza and opted for a more upscale (ie expensive, therefore no undergrads) cocktail bar which was a lot more enjoyable and I got to have yummy drinks as opposed to the cheap vodka and fountain coke combo that was pretty much my only choice at the previous student dive (I'm being mean, it wasn't a dive; it was actually pretty clean and nice for a student-oriented drinking establishment, but I digress). The bartenders there were very good at doing simple things like opening bottles of imported beer with a swift samurai-chop-like maneuver and mixing drinks with a pretentious nonchalance suiting such a swanky place. The cocktails of course had fun names and I decided on one called Super Vixen (I chose this one over Silicon Queen, a citrusy cocktail), which had various strawberry-flavored stuff in it and even incorporated a little chocolate strawberry cheesecake hagen daas ice cream. Mmmmmmm. Tastiest cocktail ever.
To end the evening, I decided that it was time I take part in a drunken British past-time which I had until now, carefully avoided. I don't know what exactly prompted it. Maybe it was because I was surrounded by student budget-friendly food places which were open until the wee hours of the morning? Or maybe because I was really hungry for some reason? Or maybe because I love fast food and I've been secretly craving one the whole time I've been here, but would never admit to it? Who knows. But in any case, I ordered myself a greasy kebab wrapped in fluffy naan bread and I dug in. Verdict: Exacatly as I expected it to be. Something that no tee-total sober person could enjoy, but in a state of tipsiness at 1 in the morning, it hit the spot. Just like Denny's or Jack in the Box might.
And that is what I did last Saturday night.
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