As I’ve got older I go out less, or rather the going out I do is different. Whereas in the past it would have been bars and clubs, these days its more likely to be cinemas and restaurants. And I really don’t mind that most of the time. I haven’t had the interest or energy for clubbing for a good number of years.
But occasionally I do miss those epic nights out, those ones that you only have when you are young, where the night takes you on an adventure, where you end up somewhere entirely differently from where you planned and meet weird characters along the way.
Last night I saw a film that made me think about these nights out. “Wrong Numbers” was the low-budget debut by Alex Holdridge who directed “In Search of a Midnight Kiss” which I loved. It was about one of those epic nights, following two 19 year olds quest for alcohol. It was perhaps a juvenile story, but well-written and acted and I’m not so old as not remember what those nights were like.
You just don’t have these kinds of nights out when you’ve got a mortgage and a (semi) serious job. You go where you intended to, you have enough money to get home and you stick the friends you came with.
Gone are the nights of;
- Drinking syrup-like real ale from a beer festival because everywhere else is closed (me)
- A homeless man vomiting in your car (characters in Wrong Numbers)
- Going to the wake of a stranger to continue drinking (me)
- Attempting to steal beer from a shop by just running out with it (characters in Wrong Numbers)
- Ending up in a cabaret club hosted by a Japanese transexual that you've never been able to find since (me)
- Being lured into a religious group's meeting on the promise of drink (Wrong Numbers)
- Walking home barefoot from a club and buying a freshly baked loaf from the bakers at 6am (me)
2 comments:
I, too, remember those nights but have also left them far behind (begs the question....if you actually remember them, were they really all that crazy?)
My 'wild' nights out had nothing to do with the quest for alcohol, however. Early on, my mother (genius that she was) convinced me that drinking beer would make me fat (a fate worse than death in my book, especially then), so I avoided it like the plague. I did, however, go to places that served alcohol, mostly for the dancing (dance or die in those days) and also because that's where the crowd (aka boys) went. :)
And while I continue to dislike beer, I'm good with a martini, a mojito, a glass of wine or any number of other 'adult' beverages. Yet I also do the cafe and cinema scene these days...and clubbing is now a lost, foggy memory. Probably a good thing. :)
No, the nights weren't crazy but unexpected. Things now tend to follow a predictable course. Its the unpredictableness that I sort of miss.
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