Sunday, November 9, 2008

Nottingham: Stank Eye

I have no bearing on space and time at this point. I slept nearly twelve hours after being awake for nearly thirty six hours, and feel about as normal as I can. Had an interesting night out on the town here in Nottingham. Apparently, the crowd here on a Saturday night is comprised of the 'locals' and not the students. 

The pub that we went to before we boarded the train to Nottingham sold mostly Fuller's products. I thought that was interesting. I had a London Pride, and the best ESB ever. I used to drink a lot of Fuller's ESB, but after a while it only tasted like diacetyl (buttery), but I didn't get any of that off taste in the one I had in London. They served both in their own proprietary glasses, which is something that I like. 

London Pride

Those are trains.

Clouds!

The train was great. We need those. When we got here, Liz and Vicky came and picked us up and we went back to Liz's house for tea and cake with custard. Really. It was damn good too. Pre-packaged pudding is pretty sweet. Tea is a welcome taste, as well. We looked for a place to eat dinner, and took a cab to Tarn Thai, a pseudo-swanky thai place in Nottingham. 

It was too dark inside for pictures of food.

Boobies.

The tables all had beautiful decorative plates, with stringed flowers wrapped around the napkins. We sat down, and the server unfolded each of our napkins, laying them in our laps. I think he graced my twig and berries, which lead to a series of jokes later about getting a 'happy ending' with your meal. You know, a happy meal. The decor overall was very upscale, and there was a fucking army of waitstaff just sort of standing there, at attention, ready to spring into action. Anyway, we got a bottle of Domaine de la Batardière Muscadet de Sèvre-et-Maine Sur Lie, which was very dry, with subtle flavors of soft ripe fruit, which really complimented the spice of our meal. I got the Moo Pud Ped, which was a pork dish in a nice spicy red gravy, with little strands of fresh peppercorns and the most adorable haricot verts I've ever seen. Sian ordered Gai Pud Med Mamaung-Himmapan, which is chicken and cashews served in a potato basket. The plate ups were very classy, with nicely carved beet flowers and birds made from carrots and cabbage. The potato basket was like a bird's nest, and was crispy and nice. Both Liz and Vicky ordered Ped Pud Sub Pa Rot, a duck dish with pineapple and mushrooms. The duck was very succulent, and the sauce was nice, and not overpowered by the pineapple. Despite the legion of waitstaff, we waited a while for them to bring us the tab, and we didn't get our happy ending after all.

After the restaurant, we went to a bar that Vicky used to work at, Lloyd's No.1. Yeah, um, not quite the crowd I'd expect, and weird all round. I ordered a Laphroaig, which apparently no one has ever ordered here, because I had to describe to the bartender where it was. There a bunch of fresh faced, rugby boys in tuxedos in there, and a bunch big goons with shaved heads. While in the restroom, one such goon made the comment, "Nice barnet, you have." Bah-net, which I took as 'bonnet', but is actually barnet, is a hairdo. I also got a comment, "He looks all Red Square." followed by a little march pantomime. A Marx reference maybe? I don't know. Bizarre. We finished our drinks and walked on to the next place. Vicky wanted to go into a place called the Pit and the Pendulum, which had metal on, and some Goth folk. It seemed okay, but the other girls vetoed it in favor of the Bodega Social Club.

Crossing the street, a clean cut, Brit shouted, "Where's ya shavah gone?" Oh, shaver. This set a weird tone in my mood for the next thirty minutes or so. Fear and loathing. I could feel the looks, and it got to me. After a huge Organic Vintage cider, I calmed down, but something didn't seem right. We prattled on about top five songs or albums for various situations, a la High Fidelity, and took another cab home, where we drank a bottle of Polish vodka, and ordered bad pizza. I slept very well, and dreamt about finding a puppy and a baby owl? Which was a cute dream. Baby owls and puppies are cute as hell.

6 comments:

juancho said...

Johnny, so sad you have no portable telly, are you poundless yet? Keep up the blog. Watch out for skinheads and respect the Queen. Cheerio lad

Flapjacks said...

yay, you posted! that's great. yeah. i thought someone was going to try and fight me, which would suck.

Laurie said...

"Where's you shavah?"

"I left it at your mum's house. Looks like you've made good use of it."

And then, The Poundening.

Laurie said...

There should be an "r" somewhere in that comment. Oops.

Iris said...

Your Nottingham night sounds weird and a little disturbing. Was the pre-train pub experience strange, too? Look forward to reading more!

TexasDeb said...

Apparently the US has not cornered the market on small minded provincial folk after all. What a relief. Glad it didn't devolve to fisticuffs.

I'm going to remember this the next time I start automatically thinking US Bad/Britain Good.

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