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2 cocktail pitchers for £5.95.
...said the advert outside a pub in Leeds.
Yes, I went to Leeds yesterday as I was cordially invited to an old course mate's birthday 'gathering'. I say gathering... actually, I mean gathering. I just felt I needed to pad out this paragraph.
Durrant kindly donated his floor for me to slumber on for the eve' which meant I didn't have to worry about getting buses home at midnight... but it also meant I had to amble all the way to James Baillie Park which, if you're not used to it, is such a hellishly long walk to get to a bed.
Buuuut, thankfully, I was still rather used to it...so it wasn't so bad.
Anyway, I got to the city at 7:30, trundled to Durrant's, dropped off my backpack and shortly left him to go out/stay in and drink with flatmates. Actually, I'm not sure what he did but when I got back he complained about "idiot juice" so I assume some sort of poison passed his lips at some point.
The Library was the pub of choice to begin with, naturally as it's student night on Mondays which = cheap drinks. I was greeted to a hearty reception after shuffling and wading through the mass amount of freshers to find everyone. An hour of pretending to hear people over the din of generic pad music was all we could handle so we moved to a nearby, quieter pub literally across the road.
A small amount of time later, we weregreeted imposed by a group of money box shaking people. Now, being confronted by some students dressed as devils and angels demanding money for some sort of charity is a strange experience. I felt somewhat disconcert giving money to the devil. It didn't seem quite right.
A larger amount of time later, someone decided it would be a good idea to stumble toward Millennium Square and into a strange sounding pub I've never heard of. Everyone agreed, to the best of my knowledge, and thus to the mystery bar we went. The noise inside hit me like a large wall...made of noise. A local rock band were bouncing around on the Open Mic night stage playing such classics as "Indistinguishable lyrics #3" and "I can't hear anything anymore".
I jest. They were good. It was just a small pub and loud, distorted guitar, powerful vocals and thundering drums don't fill the room gracefully. Thankfully they were succeeded by one man and an acoustic guitar - much better music for the environment.
Anyway the rest of the story goes that I went back to Durrant's, hopped in a sleeping bag and mistakenly lay across an extension cable the entre night.
In the morning I was greeted by a very awake co-habit-er and was offered tea and something to eat.
I got toast.
kthxbai.
...said the advert outside a pub in Leeds.
Yes, I went to Leeds yesterday as I was cordially invited to an old course mate's birthday 'gathering'. I say gathering... actually, I mean gathering. I just felt I needed to pad out this paragraph.
Durrant kindly donated his floor for me to slumber on for the eve' which meant I didn't have to worry about getting buses home at midnight... but it also meant I had to amble all the way to James Baillie Park which, if you're not used to it, is such a hellishly long walk to get to a bed.
Buuuut, thankfully, I was still rather used to it...so it wasn't so bad.
Anyway, I got to the city at 7:30, trundled to Durrant's, dropped off my backpack and shortly left him to go out/stay in and drink with flatmates. Actually, I'm not sure what he did but when I got back he complained about "idiot juice" so I assume some sort of poison passed his lips at some point.
The Library was the pub of choice to begin with, naturally as it's student night on Mondays which = cheap drinks. I was greeted to a hearty reception after shuffling and wading through the mass amount of freshers to find everyone. An hour of pretending to hear people over the din of generic pad music was all we could handle so we moved to a nearby, quieter pub literally across the road.
A small amount of time later, we were
A larger amount of time later, someone decided it would be a good idea to stumble toward Millennium Square and into a strange sounding pub I've never heard of. Everyone agreed, to the best of my knowledge, and thus to the mystery bar we went. The noise inside hit me like a large wall...made of noise. A local rock band were bouncing around on the Open Mic night stage playing such classics as "Indistinguishable lyrics #3" and "I can't hear anything anymore".
I jest. They were good. It was just a small pub and loud, distorted guitar, powerful vocals and thundering drums don't fill the room gracefully. Thankfully they were succeeded by one man and an acoustic guitar - much better music for the environment.
Anyway the rest of the story goes that I went back to Durrant's, hopped in a sleeping bag and mistakenly lay across an extension cable the entre night.
In the morning I was greeted by a very awake co-habit-er and was offered tea and something to eat.
I got toast.
kthxbai.
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