After several hours of pressuring work (sunny days are always the worst) and an episode of Doctor Who, one took himself to the nearby Rosetta Bar. A place I've been in, but a situation I've not faced since I was eighteen.
The upstairs room holds a small venue for bands to perform. A work colleague, Chris, had his band play. At the side of the stage there was a small fan, something to allow windswept hair to be had when huge solo guitar rifts would be performed.
Amusing in one sense as Sorcha, a friend of both the band and myself, disappeared two songs into their act. How gutted do you think the band were when they announced that their final song was for her?
I had a Budweiser. I sat alone, feet up on the small wood bar stuck to the legs of the table. The band playing at that moment were doing a rendition of Judas Priests' Breaking the Law. Feet up on the furniture is probably as far as I'm heading with any rule breaking.
One guy approached me asking did I want to join his group. How could I resist such a friendly offer? It turned out he and his friends were studying Media exactly where I did. Though they appeared to be drinking a lot more than my class did. It wasn't until I entered University that I found the masses of young folk doing the student thing properly. My class never got any real training in that department. Not unless you count one tutor skipping a class and having us play pool in canteen.
Now this morning I've decided not to straighten my hair. If there was any film character I'd like to be mistaken for, it would be Luke Skywalker. Though my hair is too fluffy for that Zac Efron type style.
Instead, I'll wear an extra colourful bracelet. Surely that amount of expression is permitted at church?
No comments:
Post a Comment