Cocktails, Portraits, Francophiles and Hip Hop Dancers

Getting ready to go out for the night with Emma, one of my oldest and best friends, got me thinking about other nights out I’ve had with her, and how many interesting people we’ve encountered. Emma and I went to school together, but now study in different cities, so when we’re both at home, large quantities of cocktails and catchups are always necessary. One thing, among many, that we have in common is we both seem to attract people who are slightly odd, affectionately referred to as “crazies”, so when we go out just the two of us, we almost always encounter intriguing people. I think this is due to a combination of my tendency to people watch, and Emma’s knack for talking to random people.

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A little selection of our many cocktail dates

 

There was the time we started the night drinking an unspecified, disgusting ‘cocktail of the day’, because it was cheap, then quickly reverted to the usual choice of gin, when we were asked by a man, I’d say aged between fifty and sixty, if he could draw a portrait of us. Thinking that this was a little strange, but being tipsy enough to be flattered, we agreed. After fifteen or twenty minutes, he very dramatically presented us with a drawing that, if I had been given by a five-year-old, I might have been impressed by, but in this case my reaction was; ‘oh…’

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The “artwork”… 

Another time, with better cocktails, we got chatting to two guys, who at first seemed lovely. The first guy was French, and, since Emma and I have a love for all things French, we were happy to talk to him. However, as Emma’s French is significantly better than mine, and the cocktails were still flowing, when they started talking politics, (in French…why?!) I quickly lost the thread of the conversation.

 

However, this wasn’t really a problem for me, because I had discovered that the second guy was a hip hop dancer. Hip hop, for me, is on the same level as magic, because, as a dancer trained in ballet and Irish, anything that involves imperfect posture is beyond me. There are many dance styles I can, and have, picked up fairly quickly, but hip hop I have repeatedly tried and failed at. So, this guy’s promise that he could definitely teach a ballet dancer hip hop, in my slightly intoxicated state, was like all the Christmases and birthdays at once.

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Images from Pinterest

 

The crazy didn’t really emerge until we decided it was time to leave. As we went to get into our taxi, the French guy stopped us, and began begging us to come back to his apartment, with promises of listening to French music and watching French films, and that he would “make cheese and wine for us” – mistranslation? French Jesus? Not entirely sure. Either way, we were having none of it, and luckily a kind person noticed our predicament and gently but forcibly moved the guy from in front of the door of our taxi.

 

I said my goodbyes to my new hip hop friend, still hoping that he was going to be the magician who would solve the problem of my lack of swag and coolness and make me a hip hop dancer, and we quickly hopped into the taxi before French guy could block our way again. Sadly, I never heard from hip hop guy – maybe, in the light of day, he realised that I’m a lost cause, but secretly, (or, not so secretly now) I’m hoping he’ll get in touch.

 

Kirsty x

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