2nd Weekend in London

This weekend was painfully short. After getting 4 days off for the Easter holiday the previous weekend, a 2-day weekend just didn’t suffice. But it was a lot of fun and I managed to do quite a bit in the condensed time. Enjoy:

Friday Night

Friday night I met up with Trishna and Seema, two of my good college friends, and Trishna’s husband Deep. It’s funny how every one of the college friends I have that now live in London are females. Two because they met British guys (and, like women should do, followed their men to their native countries) and two others for work / school. Not one guy friend. I know it sounds gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that), but I really would have liked having at least a couple male friends to go partying with while I was here. Maybe it was not meant to be. I’m trying to view it in a positive light. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually learn a thing or two about women in the next couple of months. Granted, in 26+ years, I failed to learn anything about them, but you never know.

Anyways, we first met up for dinner at a semi-chain Indian restaurant. Dinner went quite quickly, as Seema and Deep in particular seemed EXTREMELY eager to move on to the ‘main course’ of the evening, i.e. a trip to one of the local casinos. After dinner, however, Deep and I realized we both needed a couple drinks to a) wake us up, and b) give us at least a half-ass buzz before heading to the casino. I’m not sure why it is, but I just can’t gamble sober. At least not in a casino. Admittedly, I acknowledge I shouldn’t always be as drunk as I am in Vegas casinos, when I sometimes forget the chips I’m playing with can’t in fact be bought at the local Duane Reade. Anyways, I digress. We headed to a bar/lounge called Meza, in the SoHo area of Central London (between SoHo, Chelsea, the ridiculously expensive prices, and the minimal work I actually do, I really feel like I haven’t left New York). When we got to the bar, I was excited as it was the first place I’d been to in London that serves Grey Goose. Of course, at £8 a pop, I had to savor every last drop. After 4 Grey Gooses, I realized I just wasn’t gonna get drunk, so at about 1 or 130, we decided to hop in a cab and head to the Victoria Casino on Edgware Road.

Some of you have probably been to casinos in London or elsewhere in Europe. Quite a contrast to Vegas or AC. Firstly, you have to be a member, or the guest of a member. So Deep (who seems to have as much of a gambling problem as I do, only he actually has the income to afford it) signed up as a member and the rest of us entered as his guests. Secondly, you have to be dressed up. No jeans and flip-flops, my standard Vegas gambling attire. Instead: slacks, dress shoes, and a collared shirt. Not comfortable.

When we sat down to play blackjack, I noticed that it was a casino where other people could bet on your hands. I’ve heard about this from people who’ve played blackjack in Canada, but had never experienced it firsthand. Quite a bit of pressure, when I’m playing a £10 hand, and some random is betting £50 on my hand. I can imagine other people letting this affect the way they play. Fortunately, I don’t give a flying fuck about some random dude’s money, so I played as I would have anyways. If they wanted to bitch and moan, they could play their own damn hand. Pussies.

Third annoying thing about the London casinos: no free drinks. When the cocktail waitress came around, I ordered a vodka soda, and then turned back towards the table. She taps me on the shoulder and says “Sir that’ll be 3 pounds 50.” Fuck. I pull a 5 out of my wallet and hand it to her. Fourth annoying thing: she comes back 5 minutes later with my £5 note and tells me the bar has closed for the evening. Fuck again. What kind of operation are they running? Don’t they realize that drunk gamblers are more stupid with their money?

Anyways, I should stop complaining, because by the end of the night, I was up £325. And if I had been drunk, I probably would have gotten cocky and kept playing only to lose it all. Fortunately, I was dead sober and knew my luck would run out eventually so I wisely walked away. Still, I ended up the big loser in the group, as Seema and Deep each won around £500.

Saturday Afternoon

Not much to report here. Since I got home Friday night at like 4:30 a.m., I pretty much spent Saturday sitting at home, eating and watching TV. The Seinfeld marathon was key, though I really wish they would stop just showing all the Season 1 episodes over and over. I love Seinfeld, but I liked it a lot better in the later seasons, when George became a loser of epic proportions, and when Elaine became a bitch.

Saturday Night

Carol and I decided to start Saturday evening off with a comedy show. We tried to go to a relatively popular place called The Comedy Store, which of course was sold out as it was a Saturday night with great weather to boot. So we ended up at this place called The Upstairs Comedy Room or something like that (we found out about it from one of those guys on the street corner with a big sign). It was basically a tiny little room of maybe 30 seats on the second floor of a pub. Admission was £5, so we figured we’d give it a shot. To sum it up, you get what you pay for. Some of the acts were decent, and some just plain sucked. After 5 of the 7 acts, we decided we’d had enough and that we needed to continue drinking in a different environment, so we peaced out and hopped on the tube to meet up with some of Carol’s LBS friends.

In London, like the casinos, a lot of the popular clubs require memberships. So one of Carol’s LBS friends is a member at this club called Westbourne Studios. London is more of a pub/bar town, so this was the first real club I had been to since I got here. Definitely a unique place. Extremely diverse crowd – large groups of Indians, Asians, white people, black people; as well as people dressed up in proper clubbing attire, some dressed in suits, and some wearing t-shirts and baseball caps. The club had a large open area, a small dance floor, and a lot of sofas / chairs for just lounging. A lot of American music was playing – ranging from Kanye to Jacko. One unique aspect was the pool and foosball tables in the middle of the club (yes, with people enthusiastically playing). The REALLY unique aspect was the fact that this place doubled as an art gallery of some sort. There was even a small room with a bunch of paintings that you could actually buy. I walked in and took a couple pictures, telling the artists how much I admired their work, but pointing out that I am visiting from California, hence providing a built-in excuse to not have to buy anything.

When we walked towards the bar, I was elated to see that, for the 2nd consecutive night, I was at a place that served Grey Goose. Hooray!, as the 3 double vodka-sodas I had at the comedy show had failed to give me anything more than a weak buzz, which was pretty much gone after the tube ride (yes, I realize the term ‘tube ride’ sounds really really gay). Of course, by the time I squeezed my way through the crowd to order, I noticed the Grey Goose bottle was missing. What the fuck??? I tried ordering Goose anyways, and the bartender hit me with the painful news that they were out of the good stuff. Of course, the Indian dude next to me apologizes and says it was he that killed the last of the Goose. Motherfucker. So I had to settle for a Ketel (pronounced in London as ‘Katel’, i.e. ‘Patel’ with a K)-soda (a double, of course). After 3 double Ketel-sodas, plus the 3 I had earlier in the evening, I was still pretty much sober. In fact, in the 2 weeks I’ve been here, I’ve still yet to be drunk. I know – quite a shocker for those that know me. I’ve been buzzed, tipsy, etc. But not drunk. And I really miss it. So I’ve made the important decision that starting next weekend, I’m cranking it up a notch. That’s right. Triple vodka-sodas. I don’t give a damn what kind of dirty looks I get from bartenders. I figure if I’m drunk, I can shrug off those looks a hell of a lot easier.

At around 2 or 230, we were all pretty tired and decided to take off. Of course, we were kind of in the middle of nowhere, and there were no cabs to be found. We headed to the nearest tube station/bus stop – but of course the tube is closed from like 1 a.m.-5 a.m. to give the cab companies some business. We tried calling a cab company, who informed us it would be 30 minutes to an hour. Not expecting to wait that long, we told him to come anyways, figuring that if we decided to leave, there’s no loss for us. Of course, the cab company was a step ahead of us and basically said he didn’t believe that we’d still be there. What to do? So I hop on the bus with all the LBS students. It’s important to note here that I live nowhere near LBS. In fact, I live south of where the club is, and LBS is north. This doesn’t make sense to me, but I still don’t know London all that well and my phone battery is on its last legs, so I figure I’m better off at least being with some locals. So finally, we got off at the bus station near where the LBS people live, which happens to be an easier place to find a cab. I hop in, and about 20 minutes (and £20) later, I’m finally home. Man, I miss New York.