So on Friday, Jane, Vic and I travelled up to the Jamhouse in Birmingham for Jane’s uni friend’s birthday. It’s an awesome venue – great music, friendly clientele – although a little pricey. That said, I would recommend drinking considerably less than I did. That way you’ll save yourself a lot of money and you won’t be so hungover the next day that you don’t make it to the sold-out Portishead gig (I am still so, so gutted – sorry Rob…).
Anyway, this blog entry had a point… About an hour or so into the night, this guy walked passed me who I recognised. We stared at each other for a while and then carried on dancing and I forgot all about it. Until later in the evening – after a good few (expensive) black sambucas – I bumped into him again. Only this time I was drunk enough to slur “do I know you from somewhere?!” He agreed he recognised me too and after a bit it hit me. We took A Level German together at sixth form college in Hampshire seven years ago.
He was one of the really cool kids at college; I guess he’d be a jock if we were in some American high school movie. And, well, I definitely wasn’t cool. At all. I had purple hair and a nose ring and I wore DMs with fishnets and listened to weird music. He and I didn’t really ever talk (well, not in English anyway). But he seemed genuinely pleased to see me on Friday which I found really strange. In fact, he was *really* pleased to see me. To the point that he was kind of gushing. So I made the point that he would never have spoken to me this much in sixth form. And he replied, “no, because you were so cool, I was completely in awe of you. I always looked at you and wished I had the guts to be different.”
Well, that kind of had me stumped. Maybe it was the fact that he was drunk as me and he didn’t really mean it but I feel kind of smug anyway. I just wish I’d known that seven years ago…