Mahinda’s Little World

See this post’s timestamp?

Yes, it’s late on Saturday night.

Yes, I’m at home.

Yes, I’m tapping away at a laptop.

On an otherwise perfectly serviceable Saturday evening.

I awoke this morning with Plan B in mind. It’s now Plan E.

Plan A

I was going to go to Kirkby with MUGSS. Well, not exactly with MUGSS - Sarah was going to drive, and I was going to navigate. It would have been a very jolly day out in the sunshine.

Unfortunately, Plan A was only going to go ahead in the absence of my hockey team’s end-of-season social. Which brings us on to Plan B…

Plan B

Today was going to be the Sale 2nd Hockey XI’s end-of-season bash. Unfortunately, I’d not heard any details from Captain Dave. So, yesterday evening, before curtain up*, I called him…and couldn’t get through. So I txted him. I got a response shortly afterwards:

"Hey mo** soz mate.It waz supose 2 b totaly slipd my mind.Il send a messege ot 2 evry1,if nt!Nxt sat!Dave"

Well, he’d obviously had a drink or three. He’s young and prone to txtspk anyway, but that was quite something! I took the message to mean "Oops! I forgot! I’ll send a message out - next Saturday!"

So, time to invoke Plan A and give Sarah a shout. Being backstage, I txted her and said I’d call her at half-time.

Shortly afterwards, however, I got another txt msg from Dave:

"Hello my wonerful 2nd team,and friends! Are end of seasn piss up is nearly upon us!A fun packd evening of drink,drink,food and more drink has been arranged! The evening will start at the club 2moz at 6ish!And then on2town!Any probs get bk 2me asap! Your amazn skipper dave w!"

Ah. Yes. It seems that, in my haste, I’d completely misread Dave’s first msg. Sodding rubbish txtspk. 

So, I called Sarah and apologised profusely. Time for Plan B, after all. I would wake up, meet the SMAOS bunch for lunch at Font, head to the theatre, crew the matinée, head to Sale and get utterly sloshed with my teammates. Sorted!

So, happily planned up, I finished at the theatre for the evening and headed to the bar with the cast and audience (including a MUGSS contingent) for a couple of bevies.

A bit later, it was off to Jabez for ex-Housemate Dave’s birthday. It was Jabez, pure and simple. But that’s another story, which’ll probably never get told on these pages. Not for any particular reason, but because I’ll never get round to it!

Home, food and bed.

* I’ve been doing a bit of stage crew work this week, for SMAOS’s production of My Fair Lady.

** At the hockey club, I’m known as "Mo". Long story. I might tell it sometime.

Plan C

Saturday morning. I awoke to the sound of a txt msg being received. From Hockey Dave. Lack of people who could do it, so the bash was being postponed to next Saturday.

Bugger.

It was now too late to get to Kirkby, too - Sarah ended up getting on the MUGSS coach, which would have left Manc already.

So, Plan C. As Plan B, except that I’d go home after the matinée and then head to Natalie’s party.

Plan D(iii)

Had a lovely breakfast fry-up in Font Bar, and was absolutely gutted at the lovely warm weather - Kirkby would have been absolutely perfect, and instead I was to spend the afternoon indoors and in the dark. Grump.

Off to the theatre. Not really that grumpy.

Natalie and her friends were, it turns out scheduled to head into town at 11pm or so, to SubLime. To complicate things further, I formulated Plan D (variant iii) - crew the first half of the evening show too, then drive home, dump the car, head to Natalie’s and make merry.

I won’t tell you about variants D(i) and D(ii), but suffice to say that they were fairly similar.

Plan E 

Unfortunately, I only got out of the theatre after 9pm. By the time I was ready to set off it was after 10pm, so I called Nat to check that they were still partying hard. She reckoned that they’d all leave at around 10.30pm. I decided that it might therefore be better if I just met them in town - it’s 20 minutes’ walk to Nat’s, in the wrong direction, and there was hardly any point going there if I was only going to hopo straight on to a bus.

Anyway, she said she’d check with people, and call me back.

10.30pm came and went. As did 10.40pm.

Sod it, thought, I, and started walking. I got to Wilmslow Road and still hadn’t heard from her. If the party was still swinging at the flat, I’d need some alcohol. So I walked back home, thinking that, if Nat hadn’t called by then, I’d be going into town anyway.

I also realised that, having messed around with so many plans all day, I just couldn’t be arsed. I was properly knackered, and I absolutely HATE SubLime - it’s a horribly trendy bar, frequented by horribly trendy people, drinking crap overpriced drinks and listening to overloud rubbish music. RnB and hiphoppy shite, basically. I really don’t understand how someone like Natalie could actually like the place.

Well, you can guess what happened next. 11pm and no call. So I decide to stay in and chill out in the living room with Housemate Lynda. I can’t get through to Nat, so I txt her.

A few minutes later, she calls back. The party was still going at her flat.

RUBBISH.

I could still conceivably have helped with the SMAOS get-out, and gone out drinking with them (ScuBar then an afterparty at Ross’s)…but I just haven’t got the inclination

 Which is why I’m typing it all out. It’s been a rubbish night.

I suppose it’s like Descarte’s donkey - being left exactly in between two juicy stacks of hay, it starves to death as it can’t decide which to eat. I would have had a great time at Kirkby, I would have enjoyed Natalie’s party…but other things got in the way. 

Grrrrr.