September 6, 2006

• “It’s just like home, but a little off.”
  -Dave

  
  

  This post was getting so long, that I have decided to brake it down into a miniseries.

  
  

  This weekend a buddy (Dave) and I hopped a plane to Liverpool. How did this idea originate? We have to go all the way back to last week, when I was at a party:

  
  

  Dave: Hey, Pat. Want to go to Liverpool next week?
  Me: Is that the four day weekend?
  Dave: Yes.
  Me: Ok.

  
  

  People, this is planning at it’s greatest. The next morning, while fighting a hangover that only red wine can give me, I purchased my tickets on Ryan Air, which is the cheap way to travel around Europe. Things were busy at work, so neither of us did any research until Thursday afternoon, and most of what turned up was museum related. Fortunately, I was able to find a list of bars in the area, and finding bars in England is like finding sand at the beach.

  
  

  Friday morning, I was up as early as I would be on a work day, which was not something that I was overjoyed about. However, the rest of the morning went very well. The drive to the airport was without incident, parking was convenient and cheap, and we arrived before most of the other people. Airport security still baffles me, though. Due to our need to defeat the terrorists, people are not allowed to carry liquid through airport security, which meant that I had to quickly chug my Star Bucks drink before standing in line. Don’t confuse this with not being able to carry liquids onto the airplane, since once I passed security, there was an abundance of shops willing to sell me overpriced drinks. I did not partake, however, and was literally thirsty for freedom.

  
  

  The flight was also pretty uneventful. When they began serving drinks, I requested a Pepsi, and they brought me the tiniest can I had ever seen. Smaller than a computer mouse. Hell, it was smaller than the cup that they gave me to pour it in. The airline was also having a raffle, so buying stuff got you a ticket, and one passenger would win a free return trip ticket. When they announced the winner, I missed it by one. Oh well.

  
  

  Once on ground, we began dealing with all the stuff that we had not figured out previously, like where we would be staying. We walked over to a stand for Last Minute.com to make some reservations. There was someone already there, so we waited.

  
  

  And waited.

  
  

  And waited.

  
  

  I have this bad luck where if I have to do something simple, or have a very quick issue, the person in front of me ALWAYS has the most complicated issue imaginable. It usually involves the aligning of all the planets and sacrificing a chicken. The people in front of us probably needed a chicken at the last minute. At some point, it was out turn, and the girl found us a place for Friday night, and sunday night, but that hotel was completely booked on Saturday night. She asked if we wanted to book at another place. I asked if we would be able to cancel a place if we booked it, should we find a cheaper place. She said no, and so I said no, knowing that there is no way that everything would be booked. She also stated that he hotel was a 5 minute walk from one of the bigger hot spots, Concert Square.

  
  

  We took the bus into town, thinking that it was one of those that went to specific places and stopped, pushing groups off so they can walk to their hotels from nice, centrally located points. You know where this is going. At some point, Dave realizes that we are not near the dock, that we are moving away from the docks, and that the bus has yet to stop once. He also realized that right above eye level were buttons that you push to request a stop. Jumping off when the bus came to a halt, we were actually near the square, and started walking toward our hotel, which should only be a 5 minute walk.

  
  

  Announcement: Last Minute.com employs lying whores!!!

  
  

  We must have walked for 15 or 20 minutes, pulling our luggage. I think we cursed her the entire time. I mean, if we had walked through construction areas, MAYBE it would have been 8 minutes. Also, we were walking like normal people instead of Army guys on a road march, and the girl that gave us our info wasn’t someone that I would define as “in shape”, so the amount of time it would take her should have been longer that what it would take us.

  
  

  Eventually, we arrive at our hotel. While we were waiting for our room to be ready, I decided to strike up a conversation with the girl at the front desk.

  
  

  Me: So, you’re all full up for tomorrow night, right?
  Her: Let me check…… Nope, there’s a triple open.

  
  

  Announcement: Last Minute.com employs lying whores!!!

  
  

  Ahem.

  
  

  We go to our room, I claim my bed, since I was first in the room, and Dave decides that he’s going to take a nap. I’m not a big nap person, mostly because I never get them, but I decide to try the “nap before going out” strategy. It’s a good strategy, and I will be using it before almost every outing from now on.

  
  

  I wake up 4 hours later, and we get ready to go out on the town. Showered, dressed, and ready to go, we walk toward where the bars are, and find one that I can’t remember the name of. We grab a bit to eat there, and when I’m done, I decide that it’s time to get some info, preferably by hitting on the locals.

  
  

  There are two girls behind me, chatting away, so I turn around and use an age old technique:

  
  

  Me: Are you two from around here?
  Girl 1: Yes.
  Me: My friend and I just got in this morning, and aren’t sure of where all the good places are

  
  

  People, this method is golden. Hell, I use it when I go back home. I just say that I haven’t been there in a long time.

  
  

  Needless to say, Christine and Natalie were quite useful for information, and told us about Concert Square, which is where many of the bars are, and about a bar called Mood. At some point, Christine’s boyfriend walks into the bar, and comes over to say hi. Ugh. Then, he mysteriously disappears. Either way, Dave and I decide that it’s time to go, and they say that they’ll see us later.

  
  

  We take a taxi to the square and head into a bar that I can’t remember the name of (which is bad, because I was there a couple of times) and begin the night.

  
  

  Black 6, out.

  • 3:47 pm
  • 2 Comments