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(The Lifestyle of the Rich) and Famous

I had been on two dates with a guy. Turns out, they had never been dates at all.

Milo wore the best cologne and a nice face, which was kind but didn’t show much and the flirtiest it got was when a cat sat next to us in the pub.

“I’m not a cat person.”

“Me neither!!”

A few days after we met I tried to “up the ante”, something I don’t always like to do, but often feel it’s mandatory in order to get results.

I asked a friend for help.

“Invite him over for a movie…duh!”

She said and I sent the text, with a wink emoji and I felt the sweet surge of instant regret.

He replied:

“Woah, I don’t want a love relationship.”

Not exactly the reply I had hoped for. And since when did Netflix n Chill make me fucking Romeo?

My response I thought was mature:

“You’re my opp now my guy. 🤼🤼” …

Anyway

two days passed and I thought I had been a bit rude. Also, wanted to smell that scent again. So, I invited Milo to a gig with my two friends. It was a band I had taken pictures of a week before, called “Famous“. I liked their energy and their music intrigued me!

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The Journey

Jess and I got lost on the way to Hackney and came head to head with a gang of 14 year olds on bikes who said:

“MOVE, or get moved TO.”

We stood in silence as if the most threatening thing about these lads wasn’t the fat one falling and crushing us.

Jess muttered:

“Stupid idiots!!”

Even in my white cowboy shirt I had sweat patches, because I had always thought of myself as street smart.

Kept Calm N Carried On

As soon as we pulled up, like any “indie” gig in London, The Sebright Arms had plenty of chin length bobs and beers outside.

Spotted the lead singer. He seemed nervous.

“I don’t know who I’m going to be on stage tonight!”

Neither did I bro!!

Eek…was the pressure too high?

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First round on Jess,

who insisted we get Prosecco. When I expressed dismay, she asked the bartender to put it in wine glasses. #touché

Milo was there and so was another one of my friends, Charles. I had a suspicion they’d bond over their love of surfing and boy stuff like tits and beer and footie. 😉 I broke Charles away from the budding bromance to ask his opinion about the sitch, to which he replied:

“Any guy who doesn’t want to fuck a girl is gay. Unless the girl’s a 3 out of 10. And you’re NOT a 3 out of 10.”

Nice! Glad we cleared that up!

The gig

was in the basement and was full and you could say I was impressed.

Matey boy who didn’t want to date me stood two rows behind and I hoped he knew he was allowed to stand alongside us.

Famous came on.

They looked like an interesting mix of people. One had a shaved head, the other a box fringe- diversity left right and centre!!

Lead singer was wearing a My Chemical Romance T-shirt (niche) and I wondered whether he had established “who he was going to be”.

As soon as they started, it was clear he had, moving in erratic twitches and bold swats of the arm when beats dropped.

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“Forever”, was my favourite,

with the lyrics:

“I- Built- Jerusalem – at – the- back of your mouth.”

Someone later told me this was a reference to sucking dick.

😲

Out of nowhere 

a mosh pit emerged next to me, and my face and body language to someone with an average IQ would’ve understood.

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I didn’t want to participate.

Poor luck.

Someone shoved me and next thing I knew my rosé was in my hair, trickling down my face, my top, my jeans, and I couldn’t see!! I pushed past the crowds, up the stairs, and into the “out of the service” loos I’d been listening to AJ Tracey in earlier. 😉

Tried to salvage my face as much as I could.

I guess this is what “Grunge” looks like, I thought.

Out the toilet

with one headphone still in, blaring “Fashion Week”, I spotted a guy, Ollie, I’d met a couple months before.

“Hello Oli!!”

I said.

“Hi?” he said back, looking alarmed.

“We met at Sam’s?”

“Oh, yeah, Sam’s!! I remember that night as if it were yesterday but the thing is…

I just cant place you.”

SICK!

So there I was, drenched, forgettable (apparently) and here with someone who had just friend zoned me. At least the music was good, even if I did only hear two songs.

Pub was shutting

and I asked the band where they were going. After party, back at lead singer’s.

Where? Tottenham.

Bit of a schlep, but at this point in the night, I needed a drink or two to help me forget I smelt like a bottle of Echo Falls.

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Pulled up 2 house

and it wasn’t what I expected.

It was and cozy and countryside like, like a student version of Kate Winslet’s gaff in “The Holiday.”

I spent most the night standing alone, smoking, getting out my polaroid camera to give the night some structure. Even Milo was there chatting people up, when he had told me previously:

1.) He didn’t go to after parties.

2.) Didn’t like small talk.

Christ, I really needed to think like Troy Bolton and get my head in the game!

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So- I tried to chat up a tall red head I had been eyeing all night, but he swiftly told me he had a girlfriend, which didn’t put me off until he said “going to the loo” and never came back.

Party pooper!!!!

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I had told the band I was writing a review, (showing off I guess) and it seemed to make them pretty uptight.

“Ooh… you’re not gonna put that in the review are you?”

One of them said after the fridge swung open and there were cartons of oat milk.

“Uh- THOSE aren’t mine. My friend’s on a diet staying with us.”

Followed by an emphatic:

“I don’t actually use that.”

pointing to the barbell hung on the door.

Was it not cool for musicians to get the #gains in? I felt super woke!!

Jess had adopted a friend.

pola

Some American geezer who had a cute face that looked slightly like it was made of clay.

He followed her round like a puppy, with that kind of American naivety that said “I’m just happy to be here with you brits. I love bangers and mash!”

I cornered him and Jess and said almost aggressively:

“Right. Let’s go into the living room and just…say something really weird!!!”

His eyes lit up as if this was the first time he ever felt truly “part” of something, which did make my heart warm and all.

Marched upstairs to think of a battle plan. Passed some girl who was carrying a red baton which she said “eased her stress.”

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Came back downstairs

to the living room. Lead singer was slouched back in a chair, looking quite pleased with himself, as if

“who am I going to be tonight?” never happened.

There were four yutes half asleep on the sofa. Great audience for our “weird n wacky” announcement.

I still didn’t know what American boy was going to come out with. Part of me was worried it would be something really fucked up.

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It fell silent and then, all of a sudden he blurted:

“I LOVE CAMEL TOES.”

Nobody even looked up

and the three of us quickly dispersed, aware that this trio was just not going to work.

I knew it was time to leave, and when I went to tell Jess our Uber was 3 mins away, I found her standing in a corner laughing and chatting away with two other people. It was Milo and Charles.

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“Annaaaa there you are! We’re all going to see The Kooks next month. You down?” She said.

“What? The THREE of you?” I replied, fuming.

(Not only did I feel left out, but I thought The Kooks had split up? )

“Yeah, we’re all down!” Milo answered, as if trying to rub in the fact my friends had replaced me. 

No! This wasn’t the way it was supposed to pan out!

But then again, maybe I was just so naive, yet so-

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