I was just standing there, in a pub, Friday night, with a pint in one hand and no excuse in the other as to why I'm at a farewell of people I haven't even met until this night. I don't ask a lot of questions; not out loud at least.
The real reason was to have a drink and to watch and observe--people; to just lounge about, and get into the whole feel of this pub-going, crowd-gathering, glass-holding society. It was sick, cultural, unnerving, colourful, fun and beautiful, all at once--like a poem. Or a pub.
The more real reason is so that I can write you more amusing and anecdotal entries while laying in this uncomfortable sit-up position, in the dark listening to Travis - The Man Who album, not being able to catch a break from trouble sleeping. Don't you dare ask me for pictures in this dark heap of madness and questionable taste!
A welsh man of a tall and sizable nature came up to (the four of) us earlier. Initially, Doreen was caught by surprise by this man standing 1-2 feet to the side of her, body tilted slightly (head likewise) at her direction. Puzzling was this as no one knew why this man stood there till he explained in a faintly tipsy manner that he was looking for a friend. I surmised this by the size of his opened eyes and a smile that seems to follow every cheerful disposition to drinking aplenty.
All I know is that either these girls have this happen to them every weekend or never have this happen at all. This is evident (but not evident enough for me to draw a conclusion) by the way Doreen said "Okeyyyy.." It was in a disbelieving indifferent tone. I received this treatment before as an experience to make a guess. It's rude and sometimes amusing from both perspectives.
Welsh Man walks up between me and John, puts his arms on our shoulders muttering something facing John while Doreen and Maria watched. John asks "Having a good night?" to a yes sort of answer. Following this he turns his head to me and I'm smiling in an approving/agreeable manner while the two girls continue watching. Yes Giant, gooooddd Giant. I'm wondering what the Giant really wants aside from conversation. He looks back at John saying something else and the two girls are just standing there waiting for the next thing to happen. It felt like tennis and the Giant was that man that sits in the middle watching the ball from court to court and the girls were making it more so by being the spectators.
And sure enough, he turns to my direction again. Having had enough of this, I smile ear to ear and utter "I don't have anything to say..." I think everyone found that funny except the Welsh Man, who said "I can sense the doubt in me, here." Of course, seeing that no one wanted to entertain the guy, I stepped in and made conversation. I was hoping someone else would pick up the slack--that usually happens.
How I came to know he was Welsh and looking for his friend (Steve) is another story. The truth is I don't even think he was looking for his friend. Steve is quite a general name. He had a drunk pasted face just standing there. You know, the kind that just looks superimposed and has little expression by how little it changes.
He wasn't the first one, tonight. The moment I stepped out of the car, "There you go..." I was greeted drunkenly on the street outside another pub, waving. I wave back, with that stupid puzzled look on my face as before in the Welsh Man chronicle. I hear a muffled "High Five" and turn to see that he wants a high five now, and so I gave him one. That high five changed into some weird hand shake with the twisting and gripping and [you name it]!! Fuck this I thought, breaking the handshake in a surrendering look hoping that he would take that as me being done on my half; I even threw in a friendly wave and smile at the end.
Right in front of where we parked, a pub, with a high five-ing white guy with the famous drink-in-hand look that I seem to carry everywhere I go being turned against me. A conspiracy, damn you! I don't know anymore. I can't even guess on whether he was making fun of me or drunk or both.
"Would anything happen to our car contingent of how I shook his hand?"
"Did I do it right?"
"Was he going to thrash our car because of my mistaken secret Aoteroa handshake?"
"I should have done it better and now it's too late!"
I was nervous. Drunk people can do anything, and usually will. The thought of coming back to windowless car. I felt, at this point, the feeling that people usually have after an exam paper they were under prepared for--that only the results will tell and nothing you do will ever change the mark handed to you.
The real reason was to have a drink and to watch and observe--people; to just lounge about, and get into the whole feel of this pub-going, crowd-gathering, glass-holding society. It was sick, cultural, unnerving, colourful, fun and beautiful, all at once--like a poem. Or a pub.
The more real reason is so that I can write you more amusing and anecdotal entries while laying in this uncomfortable sit-up position, in the dark listening to Travis - The Man Who album, not being able to catch a break from trouble sleeping. Don't you dare ask me for pictures in this dark heap of madness and questionable taste!
A welsh man of a tall and sizable nature came up to (the four of) us earlier. Initially, Doreen was caught by surprise by this man standing 1-2 feet to the side of her, body tilted slightly (head likewise) at her direction. Puzzling was this as no one knew why this man stood there till he explained in a faintly tipsy manner that he was looking for a friend. I surmised this by the size of his opened eyes and a smile that seems to follow every cheerful disposition to drinking aplenty.
All I know is that either these girls have this happen to them every weekend or never have this happen at all. This is evident (but not evident enough for me to draw a conclusion) by the way Doreen said "Okeyyyy.." It was in a disbelieving indifferent tone. I received this treatment before as an experience to make a guess. It's rude and sometimes amusing from both perspectives.
Welsh Man walks up between me and John, puts his arms on our shoulders muttering something facing John while Doreen and Maria watched. John asks "Having a good night?" to a yes sort of answer. Following this he turns his head to me and I'm smiling in an approving/agreeable manner while the two girls continue watching. Yes Giant, gooooddd Giant. I'm wondering what the Giant really wants aside from conversation. He looks back at John saying something else and the two girls are just standing there waiting for the next thing to happen. It felt like tennis and the Giant was that man that sits in the middle watching the ball from court to court and the girls were making it more so by being the spectators.
And sure enough, he turns to my direction again. Having had enough of this, I smile ear to ear and utter "I don't have anything to say..." I think everyone found that funny except the Welsh Man, who said "I can sense the doubt in me, here." Of course, seeing that no one wanted to entertain the guy, I stepped in and made conversation. I was hoping someone else would pick up the slack--that usually happens.
How I came to know he was Welsh and looking for his friend (Steve) is another story. The truth is I don't even think he was looking for his friend. Steve is quite a general name. He had a drunk pasted face just standing there. You know, the kind that just looks superimposed and has little expression by how little it changes.
He wasn't the first one, tonight. The moment I stepped out of the car, "There you go..." I was greeted drunkenly on the street outside another pub, waving. I wave back, with that stupid puzzled look on my face as before in the Welsh Man chronicle. I hear a muffled "High Five" and turn to see that he wants a high five now, and so I gave him one. That high five changed into some weird hand shake with the twisting and gripping and [you name it]!! Fuck this I thought, breaking the handshake in a surrendering look hoping that he would take that as me being done on my half; I even threw in a friendly wave and smile at the end.
Right in front of where we parked, a pub, with a high five-ing white guy with the famous drink-in-hand look that I seem to carry everywhere I go being turned against me. A conspiracy, damn you! I don't know anymore. I can't even guess on whether he was making fun of me or drunk or both.
"Would anything happen to our car contingent of how I shook his hand?"
"Did I do it right?"
"Was he going to thrash our car because of my mistaken secret Aoteroa handshake?"
"I should have done it better and now it's too late!"
I was nervous. Drunk people can do anything, and usually will. The thought of coming back to windowless car. I felt, at this point, the feeling that people usually have after an exam paper they were under prepared for--that only the results will tell and nothing you do will ever change the mark handed to you.
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