so as promised.... HERE IS MY NEW NOTE. might be a little bit on the interesting side, too. because i am totally strung out on some crazy london drugs. don't get any thoughts in your head- i am on sudafed. but don't get it confused. london sudafed is not the same as in america. as you all well know, i am PRO-NyQuil. i absolutely love it. when you are sick (and sometimes when you just can't sleep) it's basically god's gift to people everywhere. but i have literally been feeling like complete shit for the last 4 nights and been waking up at random intervals to cough my face off (all while jordin basically wants to hurl pillows at me) she even told me to shut the eff up in her SLEEP the other day. so. drugs were in order today.
so we went to this store called boots- which is basically london's answer to walgreens- only better. i freakin' love boots. idk why. it's basically makeup, haircare, and skincare galore. and pharmacy. but anyway... moving on. i know you probably don't really care about my sudafed issue, i'm just forewarning you that my eyes are literally drooping as i write this, and i can't really feel my face. so......... should be a fun note. but i promised i'd do one tonight.
so i do actually have a HILARIOUS story that should be wildly entertaining. and that is not sarcasm. i still can't believe that it actually happened. so i guess i'll just start from the beginning. as it was just a complete wreck of an evening, peppered with events that are worth retelling.
so basically we decided that we were going to hit up piccadilly circus and meet up with a few friends. piccadilly circus, as i think i've mentioned before is basically like a huge vegas strip in london. there are promoters CRAWLING every two feet asking you if you want to go to their nightclub, and if you're wearing a short enough skirt or you have more than 3 inches of tit hanging out you could even get in for free. (i wouldn't know, on the boobs front. meh. but that's why we have jordin! :-) aaahahha. don't kill me fool.)
we had planned to go to penthouse that night, but a promoter told us that they had reached capacity for the evening. (HERE WAS OUR FIRST MISTAKE OF THE NIGHT. basically these promoters will tell you ANYTHING just to get you to go to whatever club they're promoting. they'll go anywhere from telling you that the club you want is closed down due to a flooding of the bathrooms, to telling you that a gang of midgets dressed as britney spears raided the premesis causing them to shut it down. whatever. just wipe the confused look off your face. my point is that these dudes will tell you anything to get you to go where they want you to go.) so we believed this tool that told us that penthouse wasn't taking anymore people. he tells us "i'll take you to the best club i promote. it's called pep-C. it's great. it plays good hip-hop and R&B and has two floors. you'll love it." he told us it was a 10 pound cover. which pissed me off automatically. but after 11 oclock, you're limited with options. so decided to check it out.
he walked us down the street for about 10 minutes. god i envy men on nights when i go out. the guys we were with- in their comfortable shoes and what not. i was teetering on freaking 5 inch stilettos and already had a dime sized blister developing on my left foot. so i'm sure i looked like a partially gimped-out freak and it was only 11 oclock. OH BOY, only about four more hours of pain and torture to look forward. luckily alcohol sometimes assists in numbing the pain of heel torture. (i was soon to be disappointed.) sometimes i do wonder, though. why the hell do we as women do what we do to look like we do when we go out. christ. but we still continue to do it. and i will continue to put myself through torture. whatevs! one of the mysteries of life that will never be solved. as we walked back home that night (as i was almost crying and requesting jordin to find me a wheelchair from the pain in my feet) jordin and i were discussing if we were superheros, what our superhero powers would be. i told her that i would have titanium feet- so that i could wear any height and and type of heel and i would never even feel the pain. just be a 6 foot tall dynamo goddess and walking like a supermodel everywhere i went. jordin finished with telling me i was a retard for wanting THAT out of all of the super powers there were to be had. ahhh cest la vie.
anyway.
so we arrived at Pep-C. looked sketch as SHIT from the outside. i was automatically on edge. but it was late. we walked in and saw coat check right away. usually the way we roll when we first arrive at a place we check out the sitch before we check out coats right away. but Pep-C took things to a whole new level of retardation. we were told when we arrived that we HAD to check our coats. umm. excuse me? we paid ten pounds to come into this dump and they were MAKING us check our coats. one of the guys we were with was wearing a jacket that was basically part of his outfit. yep. that had to come off too. so they charged us all 3 pounds each to check out coats. great. but we still hadn't been inside. we heard music (and american sounding music) blasting from inside the club. and lots of noise. good sign. maybe this would turn out to be amazing. and have it all be worth it. right???????
nope.
we walk in. basically it was the tiniest room i've ever seen in my life. fiddy cent was playing. magic stick maybe? and i could FEEL the B.O. odor and humidity just reverberating in my BONES. i wanted to ralph. everyone was basically 2mm away from the next person.
also- to add to the fabulosity- it was some asian girl's birthday (or something) so the place was completely full of people who came up to about boob level. it was like being at a 6th grade dance all over again. as a giant godzilla in heels. fun times.
so as we made our way to the bar to attempt to make this place a little bit more fun (in our minds) it was necessary to bob and weave to miss being knocked out by one of the flailing (and drunk) arms of the birthday celebraters. (not that just their arms were drunk, but you catch my drift right? you're pickin up what i'm throwin down???) anywho. so time to buy a drink. "could i get a cranberry & vodka? how much...? twelve pounds? and that's not a double? NO THANKS! :)" no. i shit you not. twelve pounds for one drink. and in american dollars that evens out to about... meh... 20$. whatever it is. you aren't paying that shit for one weak ass cran & vodka. KILL ME. i'm not the type of person who needs alcohol to have fun- but ANYONE Would have needed a drink (or 5) in this hell hole.
so we decided to try to make the best of it. a sober night. in an Asian prom. let's do the damn thing. we danced for about 4 or 5 songs then decided we'd go check out the other floor(s). the promoter DID tell us that it had two floors. we looked around... didn't see any stairs..... ummm??? question mark? we ask the bartender where the other floors are. he answers that there was another DANCE floor in the next ROOM. but it didn't open up until the club got crowded enough. i wanted to laugh in his face until he dropped the (probably) 30$ shot he held in his hand to reach over and slap me. if this place had gotten any crowded i wouldn't have even been able to do the god damned HAND JIVE to the lame 90s R&B song that was playing.
we got through about 2 hours of dancing in the sardine-style packed room and then our friend decided she wanted to go home. so we all walked about to walk her to the nightbus stop that was right near. (the bouncer told us if we weren't back in five minutes, we weren't getting back in. oh THANKS asshole :-), we haven't spent ENOUGH money on your piece of crap establishment. you're such a PEACE :-D. BRB!!! :-D sarcasm noted.) so we walked her to the bus stop. {ALERT: MOST HILARIOUS PART OF THE NIGHT COMING UP NOW}
so we were waiting by the bus stop (and this is probably at about 2:15AM in London, AKA witching hour. this is when all of the FREAKS and retarded drunks just start sliming around and literally crawling out of the sewers [i think]). this kid (who looked EXACTLY like fat albert or possibly Keenan from keenan and kell) and his two midget companions waddled (and i say that because they were swaying and waddling like ducks) all holding their own bottles of godknowswhat alcohol. fat albert looked at jordin, jessica and i. (he looked at us in that way ONLY disgusting drunk men [although he was probably only 16] can look at you). albert gave us the good ol' up and down disgusting groping-you-with-my eyes look and then said, "i'd Fu@# the sh** out of all free(three in a british accent) of yous." i preceded to tell him he should probably get some manners. he responded with a charming "fu** yous!!!!!" and then held onto his drunk friend for support, as his fat ass was about to fall on his face right then and there. then all the people around us (mostly guys) at the bus stop started yelling at fat albert and company that they should probably learn some respect, keep walking "fatty" etc. fat albert turns to us and literally says this as he is walking away into the mist : "EXPELLIARMUS!!! EXPELLIARMUS!!!!!! Here's my wand!!!!!!!" he then flips us off very intensely (obviously using that as his 'wand') and then said "'ERE YA GO HERMIONE!!!! SIT ON THAT, HARRY POTTER!!!!" i basically at that point wasn't even mad anymore. i wanted to go and shake his hand for his retarded-hilariousity. ahahhhahahaha. god. what an end to an evening. moral of the story? don't EVER listen to promoters in piccadilly circus.
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