Club Tesco?

15 September 2008

Well, for the second consecutive day, my quiet evening at home didn't materialise. I ate dinner with Greg, Rob, Dwight, and Ben; we had marinated chicken, pasta in marinara sauce, and cooked peppers and onions. It was a remarkable meal--I am happy that Greg and Rob are such exemplary chefs because otherwise, I fear my dinners would have consisted of a great deal more takeaway, which, in the aggregate, can be rather costly. Well, Greg and Rob had finished with their tour on modern music in London that afternoon, so they were in a celebratory mood. In fact, they had been such a mood from three o' clock onwards--and they had no intentions of slackening with the arrival of the evening. "We're going to get fud up," Rob said once or twice through the meal with a grin.

"Yo," Greg chimed in, taking a long draught from his second or third glass of red wine, "I'm getting so drunk tonight. Those beers in the fridge are going to be so good." (He and Rob had earlier that day gone to Tesco and, in their words, "cleaned out all of the Beck's Beer.")

We all laughed. "Yeah, it was so hilarious when Rudy [one of our nicknames for Professor Rudalevige, a token of our affection] saw us coming downstairs this afternoon."

"What?" Dwight and I both asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Yo, Rudy saw us walking down the stairs this afternoon after we got back from Tesco."

"Yeah, I was carrying one of my bottles of Beck's," Rob continued the narrative, as it would happen bringing it to a close. "And he just looked at us and he was like, 'Started already?' It was so funny!"

"Especially since we finished our tour at a pub and we had already had a couple of rounds with him!" Greg exclaimed, choking back his laughter and another forkful of pasta and chicken.

"We're going to get fud up," Rob said again. "It's going to be a shit show."

After I helped with tidying up, I talked with Shannyn for a while in her, Leah, and Lauren Martin's room. I hadn't planned on drinking more that night. I had already had two glasses of red wine and I was pretty contented, and if Rob hadn't called me, my evening in all likelihoods would have gone largely according to plan. However, around eight o' clock, I heard a series of beeps emanating from my cell phone--or my "mobile," as folks on this side of the pond name it. Thanks to the innovation that is caller ID, I knew that it was Rob.

"Hey Rob," I said, pressing the green talk button and raising the phone to my ear.

"Yo, Chauncey." (His favourite nickname out of the litany which includes "Chazzle-Dazzle," "Chiz," "Chazilla," "Chizad," and "Mothers Lock Up Your Daughters.") "Are you drinking with us tonight?"

"Um," I hesitated a moment, "I think I may be."

"No, dude. That's not acceptable. Are you drinking with us tonight?"

What could I say, really? I heaved a sigh and exhaled the word, "Sure. I'm in."

Rob proceeded then to notify me that everybody was assembling in the lobby of the Arran House within the next five minutes or so. Besides my mess-mates for the evening and me, our happy party of debauchers was going to include Dan, Duncan, Leah, and (later on in the evening) Sara Verhalen, Annie, and LIza. Heading upstairs toward my room where I wanted to grab a jacket before we headed out, I passed Dan who was dressed up in a navy blazer and tie. For some reason explicable only to God, this inspired me to throw on one of my dress shirts and a bright yellow tie. As Leah and Duncan noted later, the resulting ensemble of shirt, tie, blue jeans, and black sneakers caused me to resemble a Republican campaign worker. Don't worry. I played it up for laughs. When you're desperate for a laugh and you have nothing else at your disposal, use the Republicans. Or the Democrats, if it suits your fancy. Realistically, they're interchangeable.

At the time, I was under the impression that we were going to the "Bricklayers Arms" or a club; and I suppose you could say that we did after a fashion. We hit up Club Tesco, which is located on Goodge Street just around the corner from the Underground station. Unlike the preponderance of clubs in London, there were no shady boosters wandering about the neighborhood, promises of cheap liquor, good music, and attractive women on their honeyed lips; no cover charge, no bouncers dressed in maroon shirts, dress slacks, and gold chains like a third-rate Sicilian would-be gangster. To be certain, it wasn't a paradise; there wasn't really anywhere to sit, and there was really no place where you cut loose and dance, which I suppose has everything to do with the fact that Tesco is a grocery store. That's right--I changed into my Republican campaigner outfit for a grocery store. Needless to say, I felt like something of twit for it, but such self-recriminations proved to be short-lived.

Reaching the alcohol section, everybody proceeded to make their selections for the evening; as I have previously mentioned, Rob and Greg had already made provisions for themselves, so they were cast mostly in the role of advisor to those of us who were not so blessed. Duncan and I were very pleased when we stumbled on the last five bottles of Newcastle, especially since Tesco was selling them at the special price of two bottles for two-pounds-four. We left one for the last man, but we decided to adopt its four brothers. I'm sorry to say it, but we didn't wait to return to the Arran House before opening them up. They were absolutely delicious. (If you have the opportunity to sample Newcastle, I strongly recommend that you pursue it, if for no other reason than you experience Newcastle's distinctive, almost nutty flavour.)

Once we had all arrived back at the Arran House, we headed into the garden, which is located in the rear of the building, where we proceeded to spend the rest of our night drinking, laughing, smoking, and listening to music. Duncan and Leah were so good as to offer their pipe tobacco and wrapping papers to everyone. Dan provided four brown, aromatic, perfectly shaped cigars. Many pictures of us, beers in hand and cigars clasped between our lips or in our fingers, were taken. It was great. Probably one of the finest, most relaxing evenings I have ever enjoyed in my life. There's simply about good beer, a good cigar, and good company that elevates your spirits. It's a combination that no anti-depressant, however powerful it may be, can equal.

Of course, the evening had to come to a close. Around eleven o' clock, we had to head inside because the Hotel was starting to receive complaints about the ruckus we were making in the garden. A few of us tried to start a game of cards, but Duncan, Leah, and I decided that instead, we wanted to watch "Thank You For Smoking." While we didn't watch it through the conclusion, it was nice to unwind a little more sampling a little Americana. I wouldn't say that I am homesick, but I am starting to discover some of the things from the States that I'm starting to miss: country-western music; decent Mexican food; steering wheels on the left sides of cars; free restroom facilities in pubs and restaurants; the right to privacy; even peanut butter, which has never been a significant element to my diet. I adore the commentary that "Thank You For Smoking" makes on our system of government and, more importantly, on the sense of personal entitlement, the unreasonable and altogether narcissistic expectation that society should support you, the attitude of coddling and hand-holding, that permeates our culture. It also doesn't hurt that I wish I was Nick Naylor.

Well, I suppose that there isn't much more to tell. After we had watched as much of the film as we cared to, I went upstairs, tossed the DVD back into my suitcase, changed into my pajamas, and went to bed. I was well satisfied when my head hit the pillow and without much time or effort at all, I was asleep. Like I've said, it was a delightful evening. So, if I may, let me close then with a word of advice: if any of you have the opportunity to visit London and you wish to explore the clubbing scene, I recommend that you go to Club Tesco. It's cheap and if you hang with the right people, you will have more fun than if you went to somewhere on Leicester Square or along Oxford Street.