Trip to Southampton
This weekend I went back to Southampton for a few days where all my university friends were meeting up. It was a good time. We went bowling, I met friend-Tom's girlfriend, learned that friend-Jonathon was engaged to his. Interesting stuff. I won the second round of bowling, and every game of air hockey. I'm something of a demon at air hockey, if I do say so myself.
On the first night, after dinner, it was announced (to my alarm) that we'd be going to a night club. I probably don't need to tell you that that is absolutely not my scene.
Fortunately the "cheese room" was open, which to my equal disappointment and relief was not a bar serving interesting cheeses but a portion of the night club devoted to music that isn't terrible.
Once the noise levels had obliterated my ears sufficient that they no longer hurt (or did anything else) I felt more confident dancing. Incidentally, any ideas why they music in these places is obliged to be at dangerous levels? With my fingers in my ears I could actually make out the lyrics and instruments, and it was still too loud. Answers on a postcard/below the fold.
For much of the night Jonathon and I made each other laugh with our moves, and I laughed at friend-Marcus for dancing like every grandfather in the world. Tom frequently advised that my own dancing put me at risk of being thrown out by the bouncers because it "looked like I was on Ecstasy", particularly after the third consecutive hour. But really, if your aren't going to move your feet or core, what is the point of dancing anyway?
Early on in the night a pair of girls in skimpy Santa outfits came over, insisting on having their pictures taken with Jon and I. I found this very peculiar, but we were happy to oblige. Later on one of them came back, danced briefly with me, Jon and Marcus, before settling on me for the next half hour. This was completely unprecedented and entirely alien, instilling the strange desire to dance really well. Though the pressure of that actually made it harder, it did get much easier once my mind wandered to the question of whether my hearing would ever come back. Eventually she left with a smile and a wave. Later I was able to ask my friends what exactly had happened.
Tom said that I had "almost pulled". This turn of phrase is quite foreign. Marcus, who speaks my language, put it thus: if I had bought her a drink it would likely have initiated a courtship ritual. Which is excellent information after the fact, I must say. Though truth be told I don't know what I felt about that prospect, nor what exactly I would actually do.
Jon revealed what he had screamed into her ear over the din. "Would you believe that he is the most sober one here?" in reference to me. She didn't.
I came home earlier than expected today. I had carefully planned my trip and thus booked my coach's departure at 5:55, giving me the whole day to do some Christmas shopping. And it certainly did depart at 5:55 today, but I wasn't at all happy about being up so early.
