Rainy Manchester, Big Hands, and Rock Star Evenings
Another good weekend has come and gone. It was pleasant and enjoyable both Friday and Saturday but climaxed on Sunday. Sunday started a bit rough, with few memories and many reminders due to the four bottles of wine left on the kitchen table. A bit frantic, M and I got ready and rushed out to catch a train to meet up with a friend of ours in Manchester for a nice day trip out.
We chitchatted, we went out for a civilised urbanite lunch, we wandered in a park avoiding slugs, and we cooked up some pierogi's and ate them with gusto. M and I then left to go to a gig, where the bassist in the band is a old friend from when I lived in the 'capital of the world'.
After the gig, through some rock star eye catching antics (yelling out my friend's name when I saw him near the stage), M and I were able to arrange to go for drinks with the friend and his band. As M and I knew that we were now missing the 11:30 train and having to catch the 1:30, we felt it appropriate to make this into quite an evening. Shots of jagger, lovely vodkas and then the free red stripe when we were backstage was a nice start.
I managed to somehow convince the bands that they need not go to some lame house party but rather to a nice club just around the corner from the gig place. So we wandered over where the nice club had the nerve to charge the groupies to get in but not the bands...jerks. Anyways it was a fun night catching up with old friends, being complimented on my 'nice tits', being treated like the queen groupie to the two girls there for the support band, and introducing M to someone from 'my past'...that sounds sordid but its not.
After being doused with a spilt pint, the night ended as the bands had to make their way back to the bus. M and I hopped into a cab and headed for the train station. In what I can only consider one of my finer moments, once in the train station toilet, I whipped off my skirt and used the hand drier to dry it off. As I was standing in the bathroom in my leggings I wondered to myself what the two ladies thought of me, as they sat there discussing which corners were the best to work....
After a quick late night snack, M and I were on the train back home...I guess he managed to also pull a classy move by being sick in the train toilets...nice. Home and in bed by three...but it took it out of me. Sick at home today, finally accepting that the cold I've had for the past week probably was none to pleased with me for what I put it through yesterday.
Oh well. C'est la vie. Two days till jolly paris!
We chitchatted, we went out for a civilised urbanite lunch, we wandered in a park avoiding slugs, and we cooked up some pierogi's and ate them with gusto. M and I then left to go to a gig, where the bassist in the band is a old friend from when I lived in the 'capital of the world'.
After the gig, through some rock star eye catching antics (yelling out my friend's name when I saw him near the stage), M and I were able to arrange to go for drinks with the friend and his band. As M and I knew that we were now missing the 11:30 train and having to catch the 1:30, we felt it appropriate to make this into quite an evening. Shots of jagger, lovely vodkas and then the free red stripe when we were backstage was a nice start.
I managed to somehow convince the bands that they need not go to some lame house party but rather to a nice club just around the corner from the gig place. So we wandered over where the nice club had the nerve to charge the groupies to get in but not the bands...jerks. Anyways it was a fun night catching up with old friends, being complimented on my 'nice tits', being treated like the queen groupie to the two girls there for the support band, and introducing M to someone from 'my past'...that sounds sordid but its not.
After being doused with a spilt pint, the night ended as the bands had to make their way back to the bus. M and I hopped into a cab and headed for the train station. In what I can only consider one of my finer moments, once in the train station toilet, I whipped off my skirt and used the hand drier to dry it off. As I was standing in the bathroom in my leggings I wondered to myself what the two ladies thought of me, as they sat there discussing which corners were the best to work....
After a quick late night snack, M and I were on the train back home...I guess he managed to also pull a classy move by being sick in the train toilets...nice. Home and in bed by three...but it took it out of me. Sick at home today, finally accepting that the cold I've had for the past week probably was none to pleased with me for what I put it through yesterday.
Oh well. C'est la vie. Two days till jolly paris!
posted by Lyla @ 9:03 AM
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