It's about this point the night started going wrong, to the point I had to piece together the finer details from my text message (a few half written draft I'm still trying to figure out what I was trying to say).
- me
- [to the door
womanbitch at Jewel] Hi, we'd like to come in.
- doorbitch
- Sorry you're shoes aren't smart enough.
- me
- You're kidding me right?
- doorbitch
- No, those shoes aren't smart enough.
- me
- Oh come on, these are £60 Campers. They're very fucking trendy.
- doorbitch
- They don't go with leather trousers.
- me
- Oh so now you are the fashion police.
- doorbitch
- Hey it's not my problem if you don't know how to dress.
- me
- I dress just fine, it's just you keep changing the rules about what's fashionable. I'm a bloke how the fuck am I mean to keep knowing what the fuck I'm meant to be wearing just so I can buy a drink.
- doorbitch
- It's best you be off now.
- me
- [walks away muttering about how I look just find and don't need some doorbitch telling me my trendy shoes don't go with my trouser and how I earn plenty more than she does and she can just fuck off]
I'd also like to apologise to the 1:45am night bus home, particularly those sitting near me. I didn't exactly distinguish myself‡. I blame the 2 gin & tonics (and not the 4 cocktails, 5 double whiskeys or the half bottle of Corona)
‡ - And no I didn't throw up.
[UPDATE - 14/10/05] - Someone who thinks leathers are a mistake. He's wrong, so very wrong. (Via Dan)