Thas mahd.

Good times here on the British Isles. Got to see Gez, who's become a bit boring in his old, domesticated age, but who did manage to tell at least one hardcore rock 'n roll story about outrunning the police after sneaking through a tunnel to avoid paying the seven pound fee to see a castle at Loch Ness. They were pure ragin'. Met M, who's not nearly as fascinatingly obsessed with cats as they made him out to be, and who is relatively normal, save for the constant joke muttering, which seems somehow par for the course with pretty much every guy I've met here in Glasgow. Tried to stay at M and J's flat the other night, but didn't quite make it through the night. I think our cab drivers could probably cobble together a pretty interesting book from the conversations we have in them after hours, if they all got together.

Last night, we were supposed to return to the scene of our previous crimes in Solid Rock to find a couple of beardy Glasgwegian metal heads to cuddle up to, just for kicks, but I ended up fancying the possibly Korean bartender who, when Maura fondled the shot list, looked me dead in the eye and told me to, "Just do it -- don't hesitate." Unfortunately, I did hesitate, and the whole thing ended up culminating in watching him wash the tables as the place closed down and we gathered our things to leave and the kid made an inappropriate racist joke about "wax on, wax off". The rockabilly bartender is still there from years ago, making unnecessarily strong drinks and still showing 3/4 of his ass crack when he bends over to do anything. Can't believe we used to fancy him a bit.

After the place closed at midnight, because that's what fucking happens here, we ended up running into some random neddish types on the streets, one of whom claimed he was 20 but looked approximately 15, which is what I told him. Absolutely everything was "mad":

"Year from Take-suz?! Thas mahd!"
"You spake Korean?! Thas mahd!"
"Year a teachair?! Thas mahd!"

I told him he looked like my students and he asked me if I was going to punish him by making him to do exercises, and I told him Korean style is different -- that I'd put him on his knees and take my love stick to him. His eyes got wide with excitement: "Yae know what? Ahd beand raht ovur und take tha full force uh year love steak I would!" I asked him if the little pocket on his jeans was for his school pencils. "Theas one? No, theas is mah rubber poke-it. Do yay wantuh gie it a name?!"

It was mahd. It was also fucking raining and cold and I'm not quite sure why we stood on the street talking to these fools for about twenty minutes, but whatever. A few more drinks and nothing much to report, and back home.

Tonight we're hopefully going to see the old boys again. S's new friends are lovely, but we both agree that, although we may technically have more in common with the new ones, we feel somehow more comfortable with the others. Time to run and shower. By the way, I have to buy another suitcase to get all the shopping I've done back with me. Thas mahd.


Anonymous said...

ahh the solid. I miss that lace. Is the music still as deafening as always?

I'm no Picasso said...

It really is. I think I'm getting too old for the Solid Rock. We went twice but left the second time after a couple of drinks because we couldn't carry on a coherent conversation, as a group. Old.