Aaarrgghhhh!!!!

*breathes out slowly* Hmmmm, I do feel a bit better after that. The cause for the scream would be this evening's trip to the pub. I decided on a different look to normal (usually go with jeans and a couple t-shirts, one tucked in, the other worn over the top and loose), so tonight I wore my "My brain is hung like a horse" T-shirt, with my red Ben Sherman shirt over the top of it, as from previous weeks I've noticed that most of the blokes tend to wear shirts, so figured I'd give it a try.

So I headed into town, and drew 20 pounds out of the ATM in the form of a 20 quid note, and made my way into the Market House, where en route to the bar I run into some of my work colleagues of past and present. I belly up to the bar, order a pint of Guiness and hand over my 20... and get back the change from a 10. So I point this out to the barmaid, who of course doesn't believe me, she reckons I'm trying to pull a fast one. She talks to her Bar Manager, and is told to give me paper and pen. This is so I can leave them my name, address, and phone number so that if the till is wrong at the end of the night when they cash up, then they'll contact me and reimburse me.

I'd been in the place less than 10 mins and I was already 50% down on my funds for the night. I barely had time to drink any of my pint of Guiness though, before the lovely Lauren dragged me onto the dancefloor for a few tunes worth of dancing. She used to work in Morrisons, but now has a better job declaring people bankrupt! She and the Morrisons crew soon leave and as songs come on that I like so I dance too them... and quickly find myself in what I can only describe as an infringement of territory.

Seems the trio of blondes that I was happily dancing and chatting with (they loved the T-shirt!), and who were doing likewise in return, were the "prey" of a group of guys (about 5-6 of them) stood to one side of the dancefloor, and they really didn't appreciate me being there. So I soon found myself getting shunted to the side, what space I had to move in would close up. As there was a bouncer watching the floor at all times, they were careful not to actually push me, but they did a pretty efficient job of isolating me away from the girls anytime I set foot on the floor. What really pissed me off though, was that they were fucking terrible dancers, I don't think a single one of them had more than 2 moves to his name. The girls were clearly not interested in them at all, going as far as to roll their eyes and stop dancing themselves, and just drink their drinks whenever these fuckwits did this.

Having had enough of this, I went to get a drink and that took ages. By the time I got back to the dancefloor the guys were gone, but the DJ wasn't playing anything I wanted to dance too (or anyone else for that matter), and the blondes left a few minutes later. Taking a look around then, I realised just how empty the place was. It was not even 11pm, and there were maybe 20 people left in the pub (not including staff). Figuring the night tobe a loss, I headed home and watched the movie Sahara on DVD with Tony.

I should probably be asleep right now, but I sat down to check messages and my ex-girlfriend was online, so stayed awake to talk with her, and figured I'd write this while the events were still fresh in my mind.