Events
Sam’s Birthday - Brought to you by James Wormald -
The week before this event, Sam very kindly invited many people, she also invited the invitees to invite more invitees. With the promise to add them to the guest-list to the apparently selective clientele of ZOO Bar, just off the top part of Leicester Square. (Their selective selection process I’ll get into later).
Happy to do so in the name of LMU, I cheerily ticked the ‘attending’ RSVP box. Along with throwing out the invites to anyone I though might pass interest. This summed up to Gazz and Nick. With their names set in stone, a plan was set. Round to Nick’s Kensington phone box for a quick Power Hour, then (as long as we still had use of our own legs/stomachs/self-awareness) we head for the tube. Of course it didn’t manage to work out quite the same. Gazz was the first to bail claiming he had to be in work the day after. Bit of a shit excuse especially considering my commitment at the Student Awards Ceremony, but it was only his first week, so we’ll let him off. Then with the party countdown at just P minus 1 day, Nick phones in to say his Mrs. is back from ‘The Rail’ (Israel) and he’d have to do ‘wife’ stuff… Frankly I can’t have enough sympathy, so he’ll have to be given a free pass to Let-Down City too.
I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing by the time I get to the first bar, Fudge right next door to ZOO Bar. I’m sure you know what it’s like, when you’re out with a group of people who all know each other like a big happy oxymoronic family. Meanwhile the only person there I’ve ever known existed is the party thrower (who inevitably is busy flitting around, constantly requiring people to assure her they’re ‘having a good time’). Throw a stranger into a group of good friends, and it can get quite awkward. If they don’t come prepared, the group can forget there’s anyone else there at all, thus ending up acting quite rude and ignorant. The best way to get stop this in my opinion is to make sure you get in there early. During ‘The Introduction’ this is the main time you get talking to the one person you already know, so you’re already ‘in the game’ as it were, relaxed. You get given an in “X, this is Y. Y, X.” All you have to do is turn this into an actual conversation. It’s not like you’ll be lifelong friends, it’s unlikely you’ll ever speak again, at least until the mutual friend throws another party.
So after the introductions, as I get talking to Jodie, and I’m as happy as Roger Rabbit eating a carrot. Right then, I am forced to realise Sam is NOT the only person I know at the party. Also featured is Abosede. This throws up an awful dilemma in my mind’s eye. Now there are two distinct groups, people from Leeds, and people from D&AD. So due to the social nature of the human race, those two words I managed to get in turned out to be my last for a while.
By about 12:00 Abosede had left, and I was able to approach the ‘other’ group as a singleton. However by this stage our feet were nailed to the dance floor, and had been for some time. Unfortunate then, that I didn’t really get the chance to get to know anyone, but I love a good night’s dancing so who am I to complain? An idiot, that’s who!
Music in the downstairs club started off very ‘club-like’ all hard-house dance, and mega back-breaking beats or whatever. All right for an hour or so boogieing depending on the level of alcohol imbibed, which is why it was required for us to move upwards to the dance-floor in the upstairs bar (this decision aided by the sight of a couple of dick-heads having a fight in a corner – One trying to smash a plastic bottle over the other’s head, but just ending up pouring beer down his shirt).
Once upstairs we were treated to the delights of mainly 70’s, 80’s, 90s sing-a-long rock classics, plus a bit more recent stuff. Good music, even if it had have been a lot better had it not been coming from a part-time wedding DJ. Talking over the start, end, and through the middle of every song. Just because you’re playing 90s music, doesn’t mean you have to shout “Shabba!” every 20 seconds. The first hour upstairs, the rock classics were going down a storm, people were acting out dance based skits, and hugging strangers whilst miming what they imagined could be the words to Blur’s Song 2.
After an hour though, everyone was either very tired, or just pissed off/upset with something, and so we had to leave.
It’s 2am when I find myself attempting to make small talk with one of Sam’s old Leeds University buddies outside the club. I’m giving it all the “So, you went to Leeds University too? The Proper Uni.” And “What places d’you used to go to.” And that kind of thing. Turns out this guy hates small talk even more than me and seemingly would rather spit on my tits, expecting me to return the favour rather than endure this kind of hell for 2 minutes.
Despite this small let-down, the Night Bus always offers more entertainment than the actual night. This time the highlights included someone behind me throwing up all over the seat behind me. I kept on searching the floor by my feet to check his spew wasn’t trickling it’s way towards me.
But my specific favourite was a girl getting on. Didn’t pay, whilst shouting at the guy who was with her because she’d lost her bag, phone, and purse. It turned out the guy was carrying them for her, and had to pay the bus driver her fare just so that he would move. Seeing him show up with all her ‘lost’ stuff didn’t stop her from blaming him for losing it in the first place. It soon became apparent that this guy had picked her up that night (probably around the 01:50 mark). I kept thinking, at that stage, is it really still worth it?
See this week’s My 2 Pints for a full review of ZOO Bar.