Friday Fun
Last night, I decided to return to the Onslow Arms pub, in West Clandon, Surrey, England. I had first visited the pub two weeks ago, with my good friend, Jan, the artist. During that first visit, I was struck by the fact that almost all the patrons were aged 45-65. The other notable observation was that every woman in the place was beautiful. Yep, every single one. This probably explains why the men outnumber the women four to one. Recently, it has been suggested to me that I have been spending too much time with Jan, so I went on my own. It probably didn't make any difference, as Jan was there anyway. She let slip that she'd gone last Friday, as well, without either telling me or inviting me. She continued cordially introducing me to more of the regulars.
I recognized several people from my prior visit. The pub seems to have a regular Friday night crowd. Jackie the poet was there, wearing a sexy black mini-dress, with white boots. She reminded me of a 1960s go-go girl. Raili, an older, Finlandian beauty, spotted me and waved. I waved back. Raili lives with two toy-boys, but was alone last night. The toys were off in Spain together, working on a business project. My admiration for Raili's willingness to flout convention knows no bounds. Why stop at two toy-boys? Why not three or more? I then noticed a woman whom I had never seen before. She was tall, with legs that seemed to go on forever. With a full head of auburn hair, she wore a dark blue, pencil skirt with a slit up the back. Dark blue is my favorite color. She was perched atop stiletto heels which accentuated the shape of her legs. Her attire revealed a curvaceous body that was no less attractive for being middle-aged. She caught me looking at her and smiled. Shes a woman who probably enjoys the admiring glances of men. Later, I learned that she is Turkish, but at the moment she seemed occupied by the attention of some man.
All too soon, the landlady, Jill, called time. Not willing to call it a night, a number of the crowd gathered around the tables out front. Worried that the noise would disturb local residents, Jill urged us to leave. One of the male regulars, John, suggested that people come back to his house to continue the party. I was concerned that I was too much of a newcomer to be included, but I needn't have worried Not only did John invite me, he let me drive him home. As I was the only one who had consumed no alcohol, due to drinking sparkling water all evening, my driving was trusted. Jan also hitched a ride, as I think she was feeling the effects of several glasses of wine. John was worried about the small size of his rented residence. He referred to it as a bolt hole, more than a house. When we arrived, I thought it was a lovely little place
Once inside, I grabbed a choice seat on the couch, before it got crowded. In addition to a stereo, John had a high definition TV in his lounge. He put on a CD and tuned the TV to "Big Brother," with the audio track muted. He's got good taste in programming, as well as in TV equipment. In a few minutes, other guests started to arrive. All the beautiful women from the pub came, except Raili. This included the Turkish beauty and Carole, the sexiest social worker I have ever met. The only people younger than me were Carole's son, Tristan, and his girlfriend, a tall, curly-haired, blond beauty. They were both in their twenties and Tristan sported an imitation dreadlock hairstyle, popular with some European boys, who like to emulate Rastafarians. Tristan's girlfriend placed a bowl of mixed nuts within arm's reach, so I was happy.
Observing the bulk of the crowd, I was struck by the realization that most of them had been in their teens and twenties during the 1960s. The open friendliness of that age, reminiscent of the "free love" movement and hippies, seemed as fresh as ever, even if the bodies of the guests showed signs of age. Possibly because I was the closet to him in age, Tristan ended up talking with me. In contrast to the ageing, sixties hippies, Tristan displayed the surliness which is a trademark of many of today's youth. We started out talking about music, as Tristan is studying sound design at university, while I used to be a DJ. Somehow, the conversation drifted to cheap air travel and Tristan stressed that he hoped air travel didn't get any cheaper. He reasoned that aviation fuel is toxic and concluded that global warming was a threat to the polar bears. Dismissing his claim, I pointed out that polars bears had survived millions of years, including earlier warm periods. Fueled by alcohol, he became enraged at this. Unable to mount an intellectual response, he resorted to calling me fat, selfish, and "American." Attempting to calm him down, his mother pointed out that his cousins are American. They are due to visit for the first time, in a couple of weeks. I feel sorry for them.
Continuing his tirade, Tristan said my "leader" is a "monkey." The fact that I have lived in England since the Clinton era and have not voted in either election Bush won never seemed to occur to him. The host, John, assisted by Carole and Tristan's girlfriend, pulled him away from me, before I could point out to him that before saying my leader is a monkey, he might consider that his "Prime Minister" is then the lapdog of a monkey. Certainly that's nothing to be proud of. Tristan elected to go outside and the floor show over, conversation resumed at a more sedate level. John started a discussion about the differences between men and women, in romantic relationships. I got acquainted with Dave, who seemed to conduct himself in a gentlemanly manner. During a quiet moment, I fell asleep.
Awakening later, I found that most of the guests had left except a core few. Someone observed that it was past 3AM and things finally came to a conclusion. I drove home, noting the full moon on the way Perhaps it was the effect of the moon that caused the lunacy I had experienced at the hands of the rabid environmentalist, Tristan. Despite the hostility of one, I had enjoyed my social evening. I wouldn't mind hanging out with John, Dave, and company again. I figured this is probably the last full moon before my birthday.
I recognized several people from my prior visit. The pub seems to have a regular Friday night crowd. Jackie the poet was there, wearing a sexy black mini-dress, with white boots. She reminded me of a 1960s go-go girl. Raili, an older, Finlandian beauty, spotted me and waved. I waved back. Raili lives with two toy-boys, but was alone last night. The toys were off in Spain together, working on a business project. My admiration for Raili's willingness to flout convention knows no bounds. Why stop at two toy-boys? Why not three or more? I then noticed a woman whom I had never seen before. She was tall, with legs that seemed to go on forever. With a full head of auburn hair, she wore a dark blue, pencil skirt with a slit up the back. Dark blue is my favorite color. She was perched atop stiletto heels which accentuated the shape of her legs. Her attire revealed a curvaceous body that was no less attractive for being middle-aged. She caught me looking at her and smiled. Shes a woman who probably enjoys the admiring glances of men. Later, I learned that she is Turkish, but at the moment she seemed occupied by the attention of some man.
All too soon, the landlady, Jill, called time. Not willing to call it a night, a number of the crowd gathered around the tables out front. Worried that the noise would disturb local residents, Jill urged us to leave. One of the male regulars, John, suggested that people come back to his house to continue the party. I was concerned that I was too much of a newcomer to be included, but I needn't have worried Not only did John invite me, he let me drive him home. As I was the only one who had consumed no alcohol, due to drinking sparkling water all evening, my driving was trusted. Jan also hitched a ride, as I think she was feeling the effects of several glasses of wine. John was worried about the small size of his rented residence. He referred to it as a bolt hole, more than a house. When we arrived, I thought it was a lovely little place
Once inside, I grabbed a choice seat on the couch, before it got crowded. In addition to a stereo, John had a high definition TV in his lounge. He put on a CD and tuned the TV to "Big Brother," with the audio track muted. He's got good taste in programming, as well as in TV equipment. In a few minutes, other guests started to arrive. All the beautiful women from the pub came, except Raili. This included the Turkish beauty and Carole, the sexiest social worker I have ever met. The only people younger than me were Carole's son, Tristan, and his girlfriend, a tall, curly-haired, blond beauty. They were both in their twenties and Tristan sported an imitation dreadlock hairstyle, popular with some European boys, who like to emulate Rastafarians. Tristan's girlfriend placed a bowl of mixed nuts within arm's reach, so I was happy.
Observing the bulk of the crowd, I was struck by the realization that most of them had been in their teens and twenties during the 1960s. The open friendliness of that age, reminiscent of the "free love" movement and hippies, seemed as fresh as ever, even if the bodies of the guests showed signs of age. Possibly because I was the closet to him in age, Tristan ended up talking with me. In contrast to the ageing, sixties hippies, Tristan displayed the surliness which is a trademark of many of today's youth. We started out talking about music, as Tristan is studying sound design at university, while I used to be a DJ. Somehow, the conversation drifted to cheap air travel and Tristan stressed that he hoped air travel didn't get any cheaper. He reasoned that aviation fuel is toxic and concluded that global warming was a threat to the polar bears. Dismissing his claim, I pointed out that polars bears had survived millions of years, including earlier warm periods. Fueled by alcohol, he became enraged at this. Unable to mount an intellectual response, he resorted to calling me fat, selfish, and "American." Attempting to calm him down, his mother pointed out that his cousins are American. They are due to visit for the first time, in a couple of weeks. I feel sorry for them.
Continuing his tirade, Tristan said my "leader" is a "monkey." The fact that I have lived in England since the Clinton era and have not voted in either election Bush won never seemed to occur to him. The host, John, assisted by Carole and Tristan's girlfriend, pulled him away from me, before I could point out to him that before saying my leader is a monkey, he might consider that his "Prime Minister" is then the lapdog of a monkey. Certainly that's nothing to be proud of. Tristan elected to go outside and the floor show over, conversation resumed at a more sedate level. John started a discussion about the differences between men and women, in romantic relationships. I got acquainted with Dave, who seemed to conduct himself in a gentlemanly manner. During a quiet moment, I fell asleep.
Awakening later, I found that most of the guests had left except a core few. Someone observed that it was past 3AM and things finally came to a conclusion. I drove home, noting the full moon on the way Perhaps it was the effect of the moon that caused the lunacy I had experienced at the hands of the rabid environmentalist, Tristan. Despite the hostility of one, I had enjoyed my social evening. I wouldn't mind hanging out with John, Dave, and company again. I figured this is probably the last full moon before my birthday.
Labels: Life
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home