Dear Nick,How's London? What have you guys been up to since you got back from Amsterdam?
If you had twenty-four hours to live just think
Where would you go?
What would you do?
Who would you screw?
And who would you wanna notify?
Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die?
Love,
Ma$e
Thanks, Ma$e. Well, without going into too, too much detail, I'll try to break the past week down right quick.
Monday through Tuesday was spent literally and figuratively running the cm521 Marketing gamut. Traveling all over London searching for the City Business Library, and after asking every knowledgeable person/cab driver/police bobby where the Library was, I found myself lost for the first time since we arrived in the UK. After 3 hours I began to get a little anxious since I knew the library would close soon. Eventually I found the library 15 minutes before closing. Needless to say, I wasn't able to record all the research I came to pick up. With 3 minutes left before closing, the librarians conspired and turned both the copy machine and library lights off on me after I clearly said I "only have 18 pages left to copy."
Wednesday: Somehow Leanne, Tabitha, Nicole, Matt and I (by our powers combined, we are team HMV) managed to cram 3 weeks worth of marketing, promotional planning and advertising into 2 hard days of work. On Wednesday, dressed up in our smart clothes, we gave an exciting and fun 30 minute pitch for our client, HMV, the leading music and DVD retail superstore in the UK & Ireland. After a couple hard days of work and a few sleepless nights, we had finally reached freedom (except for the 2 papers, 2 finals and presentation I have due next week). We were very excited with a job well done so, after going home and eating a huge feast, we went out later that night.
First stop was Kavanaugh's to meet up and rendevous in a very Ocean's Twelve-ending fashion. After a few pints we headed over to the Mullet-Bar, the Zetland Arms, which is a bar operated by scary, confrontational, no-nonsense lesbians with mullets (not that there's anything wrong with mullets). In fact, we dropped by the Zetland Arms last week when, after last call, one bar tender came over to our table, took Matt's pint from him and poured it out.
The bar has a great selection in local beers - including the one I ordered for Dan, which tastes just like vinegar. Dan really enjoyed it. Leanne, Tab, Nicole, Matt and I cheers-ed our better tasting drinks a few more times and called it a night. Congratulations HMV, we did it baby! (I don't even know what that means..)
Thursday: After catching up on all the missed sleep from the previous week, we headed out to the pub for the England v Trinidad 'n' Tobago game. I have to say, although a frequent occurence, watching an England World Cup football match at a local pub in London is the best way to spend a Thursday afternoon. The Guinness was extra cold; the bar was extra crowded and extra smokey; and the game was extra exciting. Finally scoring in the later half of the second.. half.. England finished up the match 2-0 in an action-packed victory.
At night Dan, Julian, Leanne, Matt and I hung out in the room then headed over to Piccadilly, to O'Neil's. Somehow we got in without paying a heavy cover charge (5 pounds, yea that was a joke) and went upstairs to the third floor. As we reached the third floor landing, the doors flew open and 4 guys came crashing down in front of us, grappling and brawling. Trying to separate ourselves from the very close, very violent fight, we stepped around and walked in. The third floor was playing the same dance music as the other two levels, but it soon changed over to an awesome band with a big, sweaty front man. The band played crazy covers and had the entire pub jumping. Matt and I rushed the stage and spent so much time at the front that we were given the mic to sing part of a song (Londoners seem to be obsessed with Kaiser Chief's "I Predict a Riot," consequently we hear it all the time and know the words). After the band sang its last song, the dance music came back on.
Matt and I stuck it out and met up with Emma, who is going back to the US next week. The dancing got very intense, and after a couple of stuffed animals stopped dancing and started doing some really raunchy things on the dance floor, we decided to check out the 2nd level of the pub. Then Matt and I went to the WC where we noticed exactly how seriously they take football (soccer) across the pond - they practice bending it like Beckham in the bathrooms (see picture of urinal).
On the way out we decided to smuggle some really sweet Heineken glasses by hiding them in our pants; mine was in the front thus greatly contributing to the massive bulge you see in the picture we took with the band, who we happened to meet outside on the street. The band was really appreciative of our support and taking over for them/singing (just kidding) and told us to email our pictures to them.
Now very late, and very hungry, Matt easily persuaded me to get a large, filling sausage and onions (no innuendos please)from one of the infamous London sausage vendors. Thanks, Matt, all that did was make me even more hungry. So after the sausage we went to Burger King.
Friday: Very briefly, Friday we went to the Comedystore - an awesome comedy club. After hanging out around Covent Garden with Kadie (who is stilly nannying) and getting some fish & chips, Dan, Julian, Leanne, Mike, Matt and I headed over for the midnight show, where we met up with Emma again. The host and all the acts were phenomenal. All acts were exceptional... except for one TERRIBLE American. I laughed for 2 and a half straight hours, minus the period when the American guy was on stage. Apparently not having any material or forming any jokes is acceptable as long as you relate everything to a statement about how you hate America or why America is ____ (fill insult here). Well, as we told the host earlier when he was picking people out of the crowd - we were, in fact, from America. So in the midst of dead silence (this guy was really awful, nothing he said was remotely funny), faint shouts of "shut the fuck up and get off stage" were stirring, oddly enough, from the area in which Dan and I were sitting. Anyway, I was just really annoyed that the guy was wasting everyone's time - and in a great demonstration of international unity, our fellow British and Australian audience members joined in until, finally, the guy walked off.
The other comedians were so good they totally brought the crowd back and redeemed the lack of comedy put forth by the tool who just got off stage. Afterwards we grabbed sausages (that's still not funny) and jumped on the bus back to The Crofton.
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