Pubs and being Foreign

I’ve lived in Germany for most of my life and have experienced many exciting and life defining moments there. I really do miss it and I feel as though I haven’t had the chance to really experience it, most likely because I didn’t realize that not many people get to live the life I had, so my ass simply took it all for granted. I wish I would have explored the country a bit more. Granted, if my father didn’t want to drive, I was pretty much confined to the places I could afford and manage to go to on my own, which wasn’t necessarily far. I have a few fond memories of living in Germany, however, as much as I may miss it at times, I am all about traveling, moving onward, forward and seeing what else is out there in the world waiting to be experienced, discovered, learned, tasted and… I don’t know, bought.

There are a few places I want to go back to, such as Spain and South Korea. The only thing that’s keeping me from saying “This is the place I would want go to, if given the opportunity” is the whole been there done that mindset. I may not have had the travel experience I wanted, but I was there.

The next place I would like to go to is the UK. When I think of that place, I see grey cloudy skies, doom and gloom. It’s  definitely a tad bit nipply. Cold enough to need a jumper and light jacket or a pea coat. I hear it rains a lot, so what would my UK experience be without using an umbrella and still getting wetter than ya momma’s pussy!?

I see people walking through the streets, in the rain, dressed very well in nothing but black and grey colors, smoking a cigarette as they walk in a very hectic I-need-to-get-to-nowhere-important like manner; only to get there and not give a shit, and hate every second of it. I see myself crossing that one bridge with that one tower, as it ding-dongs on the 5 o’clock mark, which is perfect, because that’s the universal happy hour time, right?!

So I walk into a pub, being greeted by a cloud of stuffy smoke. It’s so dense that I need to adjust my lungs and breathing pattern. The pub is like a sanctuary, so instead of black and grey tones and being surrounded by the life sucking cold rain and feeling like shit, I enter a building (most likely, some rundown nook in the corner) that has a welcoming warmth to it. The lighting is more of a dirty gold/yellowish tone, which compliments the furniture , which (of course) is brown and made of wood and bar-appropriate looking. Upon my entrance, I look around at the crowded room of assorted types of people:

fat and dirty

some hot ones,

the well off looking bunch,

the people looking like they came off the set of skins,

and the trashy chic

I sit at the bar, because I don’t know who the fuck anybody is in the country, so the only person I can hope to talk to is the bartender for now… well, I could attempt to hit up one or two people I know that are from the UK, but like I said, MOVING ON!!! I order whatever the special is, because I don’t want to sound like a tourist-dumb ass, and ’cause I don’t really care about what I drink, as long as it’s alcoholic anyway.

The night goes pretty well, I end up getting a few drinks bought for me from a young and sexy crowd of friends. They noticed me sitting all by myself, and had the feeling I wasn’t from around here, so they took it upon themselves to approach and talk to me. We get to talking and for the most part I feel like they’re cool, but I notice the one token friend that seemed like he’s the epitome of a fag, and realize that these bitches are only tryna help their friend get his dick wet (for the first time most likely).

Of course I play along though! What else am I gonna do on my own in the UK?!?

We then leave the bar and go watch something as artistic and culturally stimulating such as The Rocky Horror Picture Show, or better yet, a straight up Drag show.

After the show, it’s 5:00 am, everyone is tired and suggests I sleep over at the token’s place, but since I’m not down, I politely decline and make up some stupid excuse, like… I need to wake up at 8:00 am. As a consolation prize,  I give them my Facebook contact, though. After all, I am just passing through anyway.

That’s how I imagine my first four days in the UK to be, but I want to visit the Stonehenge and the Leprechaun lands etc. as well, while I’m in the UK, or British Isles, or wherever the fuck I end up. Apparently, it’s a little more technical than I thought…

I would hope that the rest of my trip goes a little more chill and touristy after my initial first few days. But Hunny, I ain’t sayin’ I wouldn’t be down for a repeat!

Thanks for reading!


Hunny, tell me 'bout it!

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