No visit to London would be complete without some live theatre! But after being unable to score tickets to Spamalot and Book of Mormon, our choices were somewhat limited. Enter: Ghost Stories.
A fun, creepy play that Keith booked specifically to scare the crap out of Asan with.
The theater itself had an air of creeponess surrounding it....
Or maybe we just had a bunch of wine. You decide.
...and once it was show time, we were seated in front of several empty seats in the otherwise packed house. During the show, I began turning around as though I heard noises behind us in a sophomoric attempt to frighten Asan...but in the process, I may have started freaking myself out as well.
Gallagher Also Performs Here.
The show was a lot of fun...sort of campy, sort of funny...but mostly scary. And weird. To try and calm ourselves down, we went looking for booze. We wound up at a little underground bar called Friendly Society, which Keith and I had visited during our last trip in 2011. The thing I remembered most about our last visit was the interesting decor...
...it's a party on every ceiling! We made our way through the crowd to get to the bar and I noticed some drink specials on the menu board. So Keith ordered a beer and a vodka for him and Asan, and then I asked for something called a "Berry Berry Nutty." I was hoping to get a boozy Peanut Butter and Jelly...but instead, the bartender gave me a Peanut Butter and Yelly.
Unfriendliest. Society. Ever.
He literally said, "I fucking hate you," and then proceeded to make me a drink filled with his anger. He explained that he had worked there for years, and then took some time off. And then when he returned recently (Like hours ago, it seems...) the menu had a bunch of changes, including this Frangelico-Fueled nightmare. Once he was done mixing it and hollering at me, he tasted the concoction and fumed about how vile it was before demanding that I drink it so that he could make me "something respectable."Things started to get a little fuzzy around here. I drank that thing and then stood in line, watching the abusive bartender hand out booze to unsuspecting (and more compliant) patrons while throwing insults and garbage at the other bartender. When I was at the front of the line, the other bartender asked me what I wanted. I explained that I needed the other guy, because A Thing happened. And he immediately told me to fuck off before prancing away.
In other words, I managed to infuriate the only two bartenders in this establishment within ten minutes of my arrival. Go me.
The crazy one showed back up, quizzed me on what flavor profiles I liked, and then proceeded to make vodka-fueled beverage that tasted like hard candy. It was delicious. And very, very strong.
And then when they closed (an event they marked by throwing up the lights and blaring "Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Collins) we went across the street...where everything went hazy...
...well, hazier, anyway.
I'm told that I was trying to "absorb the internet" through my phone.
So when I have forehead cancer in five years, this is why.
When I awoke this morning, I found a pile of evidence in the kitchen, indicating that perhaps we should have made better choices.
Again.
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