THE SECOND-BEST NIGHT EVER

Last night, Peter invited me to this pub somewhere in this part of the city called Islington, I think, where he was going to be doing the PA system for a band. I didn't really want to go especially because it promised to be "Country" music, and to paraphrase, there are only two types of music that I really hate; Country *and* Western.

He had to be there really early, so we decided to arrive separately. I had a little map, and it was a cold and awful day, so at about 8:00 I got out my long black jacket and my silk scarf and my gloves and my umbrella and headed off to the train station with my little map in my hand.

I just missed the train, so I had to wait around for half an hour for the next one. At one point, I looked up and noticed that there were about 8 other people waiting for the next train, and I was just about the only person on the platform *not* talking on a cellular phone.

Eventually the train arrived, and I got on with a whole bunch of women in various lengths of little black dresses and skirts, and realized that it was Saturday night.

I ended up at the Angel tube station, and from there walked for a very long time looking for this pub.

And that's when I fell in love.

I was walking in my little grey gloves and little grey scarf and clutching an umbrella and a map, and the streets were wet and the rain was falling and the streetlamps were shining through the branches, and I expected Audrey Hepburn any moment to come walking out of the park, or maybe I was Audrey Hepburn; I'm not sure. But I completely fell in love and realized that I felt so happy.

I think I might stay here for a while.

The streets got more windy, and I passed these two men speaking French and trying to find some address or other, and just then I looked down and had to avoid stepping on this huge snail, and I briefly considered stopping one of these French men and pointing at it excitedly, but then thought that might be considered culturally insensitive.

This pub was fantastic--it's absolutely impossible to find. There is this little area with this complex maze of little alleys and streets, and the pub is dead center in the middle of it all, with a door off to the side. You'd never just run into it in a million years, and it struck me that if I lived anywhere nearby, this would be my favorite place in the world and I'd be in there all of the time.

All right, so the *pub* was fantastic.

Anyway, I got in, and Peter walked me over to this table of his friends, and introduced me to two of his friends, who I shall call Faye and Nigel. Nigel stood up and shook my hand and asked me to join them, and Faye greeted me, and then Peter said he needed to rush off, but would Faye please introduce me to the rest of the table? So Peter rushed off and Faye said, "What's your name again?" and for some reason she obviously didn't like something about the way I was introduced to Nigel, I've no idea what, and then I pointed to an empty chair and said, "Is anyone sitting here?" and Nigel said, "No, please do go ahead," and Faye said, "Yes, actually someone is, and those seats at the other end of the table are all taken as well," and then she sort of pointedly neglected to introduce me to the other people at the table, so I ended up getting another chair (approved of by Nigel) and taking it over to the sound board quite some ways away, and sitting next to Peter.

It was weird. I've no idea what that was all about.

So eventually the band started, and let me tell you, there is something distinctly wrong about hearing people with British accents sing "Take me home, country roads to...West Virginia...." They got several of the words wrong, the meter was completely off, and just in general, well, it was awful. They were an awful band. They were singing The Music of Satan.

They had a tambourine.

Eventually, of course, I decided that they were too bad not to share (Peter doesn't count, because he clearly loved them and kept remarking at what a particularly fine singer this one woman was and I had to smile desperately) and so I walked outside and phoned Matthew up at work and forced him to listen to a few bars.

The music eventually ended. Peter was getting more and more squiffy, and we were having a fantastic time. After the end, he guided me back over to Faye and Nigel, and some of the people had left and others were still there, and I ended up spending most of the next hour or so talking to this fabulous man whose name, I think, is Laurence. I am basing this assumption on a drunken scrawl on a piece of paper in my purse that appears to read:



Laurence

020 720969

7209 49**

oddball

sure

tarrot read



I'm not completely certain about any of that. I do remember that as he was scrawling it, he was saying things like, "Oh, what should I write so you remember who I am? Let's see, I'm an oddball, but I'm certainly a nice guy, really fabulous, actually, and...." but what this has to do with the scrawling, I'm not sure.

Anyway, we (Possibly Laurence and I) are going to go see a band next Saturday night in Greenwich, and I'm certain that it isn't country music this time, so I'm quite excited.

By the end of the evening, Faye had come around and decided that we were great friends after all. She asked to see me naked. (Well, to be fair, one of the men at the table asked to see me naked first, and Faye stressed that she thought it was a fabulous plan and she would like to see me naked as well.)

Another guy that I met is an IT Director at a local software company, and he asked me to please send him my CV so that he can see if they are doing any hiring at all. Which would be fabulous! It turns out that they actually do exactly what I'm trained at, so I'm hoping.

Anyway, Faye and her boyfriend and Possibly Laurence and a few other people were going to go continue the party somewhere up in Camden, and they begged me to come along, but the last train had already left and I needed to rely on Peter to get home, so I called it an evening ("It's an evening!" I shouted) and rode home with Peter, who dropped Nigel off first, and then spent the rest of the trip extolling the virtues of Nigel ("He's handsome! He's rich! He's a Super Nice Guy!") and then eventually I ended up home and went to bed.

In case I haven't mentioned it, I had a fantastic time. And I feel really happy that I met some new friends and we're going to get together again.

I overheard Peter this morning talking on the telephone, and the only thing I overheard was, "Well, she's here right now, so I can't really talk." I'm wondering what that was all about, but there's this part of me that, based on a couple of other things that happened, suspects that the purpose of last night was to attempt to set me up with Nigel, which makes no sense at all, since the last time I checked I was not shopping around for a new boyfriend.

I slept all night, without nightmares, for the first time in a while. And I woke up happy, and not feeling sick. And I'm going to try to keep feeling this way for a long time.