Mission impossible
Even though the mission-- to go to London and have a massive night of dancing-- doesn't seem so difficult at the start, beware because this proves to be a mission impossible if I've ever seen one. You could say it was our own fault. We didn't have advance tickets, we arrived at midnight when the queue was literally wrapped around a corner and another street, and we were a group of 4 guys and one girl. But my god! You would think that Oprah was inside giving away free Mercedes Benz-- except only to females! We tried begging, bribing, buying bottles of anything for the bouncers, but unless my 4 friends were going to have immediate sex change operations, we didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting into that club.
Disappointed isn't even an accurate description of this night. FREEZING is a bit closer. By the time we reached the front of the line, only to be turned away, we had been waiting for a good hour as our fingers were gradually hardening into icicles.
Better yet, we could have finished the night somewhere else, in a less posh and more sausage friendly club, but Frenchy (the original-- oh yes, he made a brief comeback as an extra in this episode) insisted that he was tired of the bullshit and wanted to go back home. We didn't really have much choice but to follow him. He did in fact have an absolutely lovely 2-level flat overlooking the Thames, but then again he was never one to live in cramped quarters. I was only TOO happy that I do NOT share those lovely quarters with him! It seems as though the year-plus gaps between our meetings always seem to allow sufficient time for me to erase all of the self-serving, rude and pretentious qualities I see in him. Apparently, my mind has an erasable function but reality does not. He never changes, and it only takes one meeting to realize that love really is blinding. If I needed any reminder of what I am NOT looking for in a partner, I need look no further. At least the "friend" category allows for some breathing room.
The mission wasn't altogether regrettable, however. A closer look at the impossible can sometimes be a good thing.
Disappointed isn't even an accurate description of this night. FREEZING is a bit closer. By the time we reached the front of the line, only to be turned away, we had been waiting for a good hour as our fingers were gradually hardening into icicles.
Better yet, we could have finished the night somewhere else, in a less posh and more sausage friendly club, but Frenchy (the original-- oh yes, he made a brief comeback as an extra in this episode) insisted that he was tired of the bullshit and wanted to go back home. We didn't really have much choice but to follow him. He did in fact have an absolutely lovely 2-level flat overlooking the Thames, but then again he was never one to live in cramped quarters. I was only TOO happy that I do NOT share those lovely quarters with him! It seems as though the year-plus gaps between our meetings always seem to allow sufficient time for me to erase all of the self-serving, rude and pretentious qualities I see in him. Apparently, my mind has an erasable function but reality does not. He never changes, and it only takes one meeting to realize that love really is blinding. If I needed any reminder of what I am NOT looking for in a partner, I need look no further. At least the "friend" category allows for some breathing room.
The mission wasn't altogether regrettable, however. A closer look at the impossible can sometimes be a good thing.
posted by JoLo in Tokyo @ 8:59 PM
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