Sunday, October 14, 2007

Night Life

The past couple of nights have been fairly crazy. Thank god today is Sunday, a de-tox day to relax and catch up on homework/sleep. Even as a college student, I am not used to consuming so much alcohol. Before I get any condescending letters from relatives, please allow me to explain.

At about six o'clock, the city of London essentially shuts down. You can't go shopping, the museums are all closed, movie theaters aren't open, and even my favorite restaurants aren't open. This is quite jarring for any American, especially a spoiled New York girl as myself, who is used to going to the Gap at 11:00 pm, just for the hell of it. No, here in London, things wind down early. There is nothing to do once the sun sets. Except....
There are a few places that remain open come nightfall, and these are the pubs. So unless you want to stay in your flat and do homework (no thank you), you go out to a pub. In my case, I am particularly lucky; there is a pub right across the street called Crown and Anchor. I could literally fall out of the front doors of my apartment building and into the open doors of Crown and Anchor. This happens more often than I would care to admit.

If you are sick of pubs, you can go out to the clubs. This, too, happens frequently; my roommates and I often make an exodus to the local tube station and head out to a club. Personally, I find clubs more enjoyable; I love to dance. When my roommates and I tear up the dance floor, we are always the best dancers there. I'm not kidding. Back home, I am an average clubber, but here across the pond I feel like a dangerous dancing machine. The locals will often stop their sleepy gyrations and stop and watch our energetic dance moves. Plus, all the songs that clubs play over here are American, so we all belt out the tunes. We look like we were hired to dance in these clubs.

Of course, this will often bring out the English guys, drawn to our dancing like moths to a flame. They all seem to have the same pick up lines:
"Are you from the States?"
"Do you come here often?"
"I LOVE this song."
Either that, or they'll try to silently dance with us, but they usually give up and drift away, intimidated or embarrassed. Oh well- at least they still have their good looks and cute accents.

The British culture pushes one towards the consumption of alcohol. Everything shuts down at nightfall, and there is absolutely nothing to do besides go to a venue that revolves around alcohol. Even the TV stations over here are lousy, so you can't even stay in and watch the tube. Unless you want to go to bed early, you HAVE to go out- that's what all the English do (even after my choir rehearsals, the singers travel en masse to a local pub). That's all anybody does around here.

So that explains my ridiculous spike in alcohol consumption, particularly beer. If my relatives are offended, I apologize. When in Rome...

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dear Annie,
Stick to Guiness...it's self-limiting. And you can dance off the excess calories.
Love, Poppy

Anonymous said...

Annie, continue your terpsichorean talents! You may well get hired as a dancer in the clubs and Prince William will come and see you and fall in love and dump "whatshername"...Love, Nana