Friday, 3 September 2010

Kieran goes Burlesque

So, I had a meeting last night with the ex and as per the last blog entry, I’m going to just start with that, freestyle a bit and see where all this goes, maybe I’ll learn something by the end of this? Maybe you'll learn something too; we could learn together, something, a study group of sorts? First there was the thing and one thing led to another, or some thing or other?

Gypsy bar is the one with the Plastic sheet hanging down
Well, well, so I met up with the ex, Jo, and that went well, an hour and a half later I was on my merry way, home, but I needed to use the toilet, or maybe the toilet needed me, I cant remember the exact order and so, like is my habit and being a creature of habit, I called into gypsy bar to avail of their services.

So, Steve is in the kitchen, i go into the kitchen to talk to Steve, Casey is out the front, manning the front line, giving out to me, 'Don’t eat where the customers can see you!', 'Don’t use a tooth pick where the customer can see you', there was on one customer out in the bar, as far as I could see after this experience alone, I would not want to work in a kitchen, I would be driven demented, it would be my hell, not for me, thank you.

So, Kiwi Steve is in the Kitchen and he has a problem, the problem being, his Landlord calling and calling, and Steve didn't want to talk on the phone, so I talk to the landlord for him and it goes like this.
The land lord is calling because Steve moved out and never told the landlord, now he wants his money.

Steve tells me to answer his phone, and talk for him, make up a story, anything, after all, that is my job, or so it would appear?

It goes:
Telephone: Ring, Ring
Me: Hello
Landlord: Is Steve there?
Me: No, Steve got robbed, yeah, he's not here, he's gone off with his buddy Dave
Landlord: Where is he?
Me: Do you know Dave?
Landlord: No, what’s his number?
Me: I don’t know
Landlord: Tell him I called
Me: Ok so, goodbye
The whole story is bullshit of course, all the while he's freaking out, not having eaten all day, so eventually he calls his landlord on my phone, as per the made up story as above, don’t ask me how any of that made sense, it doesn't, if it was fiction, it would make sense, but it's all true, so there you go, none of the logic has logic, so don’t blame me!

I tell Steve to eat food and cut out the bullshit, his friend calls him and tells him the same

Out in the front of the bar, Phil (from Dublin) was set to play an acoustic gig, but he was missing a lead and he looked everywhere. I said to him
Do you know what? You need a support crew, just like Bono!
Phil isn't having any of that and voices his displeasure with my (lack of) assistance/support.

U2 road crew
By which, my meaning, which he obviously didn't get was, Bono and crew have a ginormous band of Carny folk helping them with their 360 world tour, it only costs $850K per day to put on and they would have plenty of leads, maybe enough to open a detective agency?

Anyways, Steve makes me a steak dinner, for the use of my phone and telling fibs (I’m going to hell anyways, what’s one more thing?) I eat, and then join another table of Irish, Dutch and a, by his own recoginion, half breed English/Asian guy.

U2 road crew

Steward calls, my new neighbour/colleague and off I go to meet him, the band in the Derby is shit, so tells me he, and then he wants’ to go and see a Burlesque bar, 'Why not?', sez I, and off we go, it's not far, which is another surprise?


Now, I’ve seen all kinds of shows in my time and the one thing I’m amazed about the 'Burlesque' thing is that people are enthusiastic enough to want to do it, I don’t mind watching it, but they go to al lot of trouble, costumes, accents, it's a culture, but not mine. It was a laugh, they had one Kiwi up on stage, his shirt was off, and the girl was comparing him to a sheep, a black one maybe? The girls in the bar seemed to want to see it badly, Burlesque, not sheep of any description

The MC chick said, 'Who wants to see Burlesque?
I wanted to say, 'What’s Burlesque?'

Oscar the grouch
One thing that couldn't be denied was I was in the right place to find out, the last performance chick was funny, she looked like she was living in a dumpster (just like Oscar above) and she put lipstick all over her face and drew a smiley face on her belly, I had to laugh, it's something you don’t see every day, Burlesque, eh?

When it was all over, I brought Steward, Fitzroy North's newest resident to some of the bars in his area, the Royal Newry, Dave, the Dave I lived with briefly told me once he didn't get served there as the landlord heard he was fighting with me, the landlord told him

Landlord: I heard your fighting with the Irish, you won’t be served here
He can laugh about it now, then I showed him The Fitzroy star (it was closed) and it was home time, to get sleep and go to the gym, bright and early, to get that worm and get it, I did!

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