The title speaks for itself really. I am a regular with a name change and I need honesty as I cannor judge whether I am writing self-indulgent bollocks or if I should keep going.
I appreciate any input - thank you.
The Devil kissing a lady
?So are you in to heavy metal then?? she said indicating my black t-shirt, with the wording - 'Gallon Drunk'(a band) and depicting the devil kissing a woman. ?Nooo? I shot back outraged, though eyeing her prim pastel outfit I could hardly expect this woman to be able to discriminate between swamp blues rock bands and iron maiden! I suppose my black jeans, DMs and black tee could be considered metal-ish but no self respecting rock fan would be wearing a saggy holey cardie ? that was the uniform of the dedicated Indie kid.
So I could see that we wouldn?t be bonding over our musical tastes, I swiftly moved conversation onto safer topics, politics, religion (that turned out to be a big mistake), whilst eyeing our other companions. We were seated in the Hexagon bar at the top of the University Union building ? it was harshly lit for a bar (no dark corners) and the décor was chrome and (cheap) light wood but the drinks were cheap and it was over the road from our accommodation so made sense for the first night ?getting to know the strangers you now live with? drinks. Glancing across the bar and out of the large picture windows I remarked in a jolly but sarcastic tone, ?look a church that?ll be handy?, the pastel vision (Mandy) almost clapped her hands in her excitement ?oh yes?, she breathed reverently, ?will you be joining the Christian Union, as well then??
I desperately cast around for an appropriate (not insulting) response as I would be living with this girl for the best part of a year. ?Umm not really my cup of tea, lovely for you though.? My heart sank yet further. Still the northern girl across the table from me with her heavy eye make-up and Levellers t-shirt looked more promising and she was studying Politics as well so we should find some common ground. Surprisingly, I wasn?t feeling as nervous as I had thought I would be, all those miles from home, meeting new people living away from my family for the first time. Still my family was not a sanctuary from the world. Our pokey goldfish bowl of a council maisonette was hardly luxurious and my family already blighted by my mothers depression and parents unhappy marriage, had been devastated by the death of my father only a fortnight ago.
It was surreal I had been dressed in black on the previous Thursday at my fathers funeral and now I sat in a bar hundreds of miles away, starting my university life. Peering over my pint glass I wondered when to make that revelation, I felt oddly embarrassed about my situation as though it would be wrong to burden my new flatmates with the knowledge that I had been so recently bereaved. I dreaded the prospect of their discomfort and any awkward silence it might create.
I went to the bar instead to get the next round in.