There’s always those nights; the ones that you’re not sure will be any good, but turn out to be the best time you’ve had in quite a while.
Throughout the week, I’ve been to the O2 Academy in Leicester four times:
- The first was a last minute decision to go to the ‘Freshers Opening Party’. It was a good night, pretty packed. I had fun.
- The second was the unveiling of the all-new ‘LetsDisko’ night. A poorly named replacement for Red Leicester. I enjoyed it about as much as I did its predecessor, which is to say, not very much, despite my love of cheesy music.
- The third was the first ‘Shabang’ of the year, which happened to coincide with my housemates friends birthday. Prinks at their house, and on to ‘Shabang’. Unfortunately, the birthday boy and his sidekick were focused on these two ladies that they had brought out, which meant they weren’t the most interesting company. I wandered off with a friend, the night had its ups and downs. Surprise appearances. Girl trouble. Lost clothes. The lot.
- And then there was last night. I was still tired and hungover from Friday, and really in no mood to get back on it. But it was another birthday night, and I had made a commitment, so I followed through, with all the intensity I had at my disposal.
Despite living only five blocks away from my destination, I arrived forty minutes late, not realising that we were actually going to a bar, rather than pre-drinking before the club. We hopped in a taxi and set off; my friends eager for a night of the dench-est (is that a word? I’m not very street) grime to come to Leicester in some time.
We started off in Walkabout, which, being a Saturday night in Leicester, was filled with all manner of bizarre looking locals and students alike, as if some sort of weird convention was in town. We ignored the fact that the girls would no longer be joining us and the fact that the drinks were a £5, and powered forward, devoting ourselves to getting well and truly smashed.
Lethal Bizzle was there. He rapped. Or grimed. Whatever the kids call it.
I was greeted by an ‘old friend’ who complimented my new facial hair. I have literally no idea who he was.
Everyone got lost. I had to venture off-track to make sure a friend got home again.
I was a bit of a dick to a girl I vaguely knew; not mean, so much as just intentionally annoying her whilst she was working. I thought I was hilarious. She probably didn’t agree. It’s probably why I’m single.
And I tried to talk some strangers into helping me return Hackney to the shit-hole that I fondly remember it as, rather than the ‘hipster town’ my house-mate claims it now is. They had that look on their face; the one where they sort of wanted to leave, but were also intrigued to see what this weirdo would ramble about next. As one who frequents a lot of scummy drinking places, I myself have worn that look on many an occasion.
All in all, there was nothing particularly special about it, but me and Jay both agreed that we had more fun than we’ve had in a while. And then we looked at our bank accounts. Mine was down £80, which basically spent all the money I was just paid the other day. Jay was worse off, down £105. What an earth we bought, I have no idea, especially seeing as we do both remember the night.
I think Freshers Fortnight may be over a week early for us.
On the upside, I finally bit the bullet and signed up to Mountaineering Society.
Yesterday was pretty taxing on my wallet.
Fortunately, I have this to cheer me up. Enjoy: