American Capitalism meets English Determination

The last week of holiday has flown by like the money out of my account throughout it’s duration. Whether it be clothes for summer that I bought during one of the coldest periods of the year to date to football tickets, a knee support to a pair of pink socks, I’ve somehow spent a lot.

Monday was my regular time off trip up the M6 to the Trafford Centre. That night I went and watched Nige and David play badminton, which isn’t really much fun when you’re not in a position to do it yourself.

Tuesday was the quest to get the tickets for Liverpool v PSV. It was bloody freezing as myself and James stood in the queue for two and half hours. We went into the museum afterwards cause I still hadn’t seen Ol’ Big Ears. Complete with my new, awesome Luis Garcia keyring, we headed into Liverpool and met Mr Fisher for lunch.

We got back to James’ and I had to have a go on his Wii. Incidentally, have I mentioned that that’s a stupid name? Anyway, I really want one now. I went to Toys ‘R Us the next day but they only had them in really expensive bundles.

The rest of the week was spent doing pretty much nothing until the weekend. I went to the MCR concert at the MEN on Saturday evening. It was quite good, but not as good as I expected. Famous Last Words is just the best song of this year, live and recorded. It’s awesome.

Unfortuantely after that I went out for James’ birthday in Manchester and 1 Central Square’s “funkademia” which was pure rubbish. I finally got in after queueing in the guest list queue. The guy who was letting people in was power happy and was a right muppet. There were a few things about his way of letting people in. Firstly, if you’re on a guest list it’s cause you want priority to be let in. So why then do they let people in the normal queue in before you? Secondly, if they’re going to let you in anyway cause you’re on the guest list, why make you queue for half an hour? They were letting big parties in so I went on a wander down the front of the queue and said to this guy that I was own, on the guest list and the rest of my mates were in there already. “You’ll have to queue”. So get to the front of the queue and the other bouncer asks me how many of me there are and says I’ll have to queue. Before I can say anything the group of girls I’d been queueing with jump to my defence. But even still, knowing there’s only one of me, I’ve been queueing and that my mates are already in, they still chose to let a big party in and make me wait longer. I still can’t understand it now.

Once I get in, the first thing I see is James holding a phone to me with the start of a text “This is sh*te” written on it. And it was. I like more to my music than a bass and a drum. I also like to not have to queue for 26 minutes for a Coke, even if the barmaid’s silicone enhanced, disproportionate chest was providing a source of amusement. My brother was actually falling asleep.

The trips to and from the club were quite amusing. Getting there, the taxi driver sounded like he was partaking in some sort of phone sex on his handsfree kit (that must be the tantric version). The number of groans and grunts…

The way back was less disturbing and lot funnier. Having picked up vouchers for BOGOF on foot long Subs on the back of bus tickets and feeling rather peckish, we enter Subway at approximately 02.30am. James ask person number 1 if the vouchers are accepted, and is answered with the affirmative. After ordering 4 feet of sandwich, person number 2 will not take said voucher as they are “not a particiapting store”. James rightly argued the toss before declaring that he no longer wants the sandwiches which are subsequently thrown away along with a further six inch. Incidentally, the list of participating restaurants is not on Subway’s website as we were told.

Undeterred, and still hungry, the boys prepare for action in Subway number 2. Dave goes first and passes through relatively smoothly, bagging a six inch melt and medium coke for a bargain £2.96. However, a snag is hit. Their voucher for the foot long BOGOF is torn off half way down – damn you bus people for not making larger tickets! Problem solved by James’s presentation of his business card and a well placed roll of sellotape and scissors from under the till to tape two together. Hoorah!

By then we’d lost an hour to BST and were quite tired. Getting home at just after the 5am news on the wireless was not the best preparation for going back to work next week.

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