I never spit in your drink; why do you smoke in my air?
Tonight was fantastic. I went to an underground improv jazz club in the back of a dodgy close, behind a sketchy street. Had a very smooth, heavy, bitter ale, and met some people from the international student center (more fun than it sounds). The bassist apparently is a psych prof here. Very hip.
Around 12:30 we left and wandered around Cowgate and came across a sad pub down the street from Bannermans, with a helpful and jolly doorman, and a small complement of people watching an open mic. It was pathetic. We left, and then wandered back in later on, this time finding out they had some secret dance room painted black filled with black lights (which excited everyone but me) -- creepy ass room in the basement of an ginormous underground building with multiple levels of long creepy arched arcades and lighting. And a movie theater. !!! A small screen, projected; held about 40 people at capacity, dank, cold, rotting walls, and places to put your pint in front of every seat. It looked like a whorehouse. Such an amazing place. The manager did everything for us, for free, and asked nothing -- he put on Interview with the Vampire for us, after American Psycho ended. We watch about an hour before wandering back to our warm flats.
And the drinks there were bloody cheap too (haha I made a pun!).
I'll be going back; a lot.
---
Oh and as for the subject -- I'm used to the smoke. But it's interesting how *everyone* rolls their own here. Fags are too expensive otherwise, I suppose -- about $10 for a pack of eight, or twelve, I think (how many come in a mini pack?).
Around 12:30 we left and wandered around Cowgate and came across a sad pub down the street from Bannermans, with a helpful and jolly doorman, and a small complement of people watching an open mic. It was pathetic. We left, and then wandered back in later on, this time finding out they had some secret dance room painted black filled with black lights (which excited everyone but me) -- creepy ass room in the basement of an ginormous underground building with multiple levels of long creepy arched arcades and lighting. And a movie theater. !!! A small screen, projected; held about 40 people at capacity, dank, cold, rotting walls, and places to put your pint in front of every seat. It looked like a whorehouse. Such an amazing place. The manager did everything for us, for free, and asked nothing -- he put on Interview with the Vampire for us, after American Psycho ended. We watch about an hour before wandering back to our warm flats.
And the drinks there were bloody cheap too (haha I made a pun!).
I'll be going back; a lot.
---
Oh and as for the subject -- I'm used to the smoke. But it's interesting how *everyone* rolls their own here. Fags are too expensive otherwise, I suppose -- about $10 for a pack of eight, or twelve, I think (how many come in a mini pack?).
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