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Blogger, full-time bum and proud owner of a rubber duck named Bert. Come say hi. I don't bite. Unless you're a cheesecake, then I'd recommend backing away slowly.

Monday, 27 August 2012

Pigeon paranoia

With flying rats like that littering our skylines, is 
it any wonder a number of us have grown paranoid?

Friday was one of those days, one of the great ones that is ruined only by the fact that you know it will likely never happen again. Like, a midnight screening of a long-awaited new release or the feeling that you are overwhelmed with after a concert.

“It was great, but it won’t happen again, and that makes me sad.”

Megan has been one of my best friends since 2006. Ever since, we’ve had a type of weekly tradition where we’d hang out with each-other on Friday. Cupcake baking, sushi eating and watching ‘Fight Club’ is how we usually spent our nights.

She is going away to Glasgow next week to start an acting course at college.

Obviously, I can’t go down to Glasgow every week, and she can’t come up to Aberdeen every week, therefore the only option for us is to break the tradition and see each-other, at best, once a month or so.

Life’s a bitch at times

I suggested that we go out for a meal to mark this occasion:
MEGAN: Where do you want to go?
ME: I’m not fussed. You choose!
MEGAN: NO! You choose.
ME: It’s your last ever Friday…
*Mum shoots me a look*
MUM: That’s morbid!
ME: I mean…. your last Friday in Aberdeen, that is guaranteed?
Hopefully not her last Friday, full stop.

We decided that the best thing to do was go to Union Square and pick one of the restaurants there to go to.

We decided on Pizza Hut, but upon seeing how busy it was, continued walking, so far that we had almost reached the other end of the centre.
ME: That’s Zizzi.
MEGAN: Is it good?
ME: Kelly had a pasta dish and said it was really yummy. *stops at Zizzi, which is the last restaurant in the centre, but Megan carries on walking* Dude, there’s no where else…
MEGAN: There’s a pigeon *points towards pigeon casually minding it’s own business* Can I chase it?
ME: Sure. Sure, go ahead.
Megan then proceeds in running at the pigeon, scaring it away.

NOTE: Megan turned eighteen on the sixth of May. Yes, eighteen year olds still take pleasure in chasing animals.

It seems as though my night wasn’t the only one made. A couple in Zizzi laughed as Megan came back to me, beaming. I point them out to Megan and she just laughs and gives them a cheeky thumbs up.

In Yo! Sushi (old faithful) I pointed out that Megan’s pigeon was sitting on a pillar, waiting for Megan to come out so it could attack her.

We looked away for a moment to order, and when we looked back? It was gone.

Lock up yo’ kids. Lock up yo’ Mamma, 
ninja pigeon is on the loose.

Word of warning: Never order a sushi that contains Japanese chilli powder. It will burn the taste buds off of your tongue.

They didn’t have tofu for Megan’s tofu katsu curry, so we left pretty soon after that to go to Pizza Hut for desert…

Even at eight, the place was still busy. So we went on a coffee pilgrimage instead.

It’s hard to tell if Starbucks is the God or devil 
in this little metaphor.

Obviously, being later on at night, very few places were open. So we decided to try somewhere new. Kilau coffee is a place I’ve heard a lot about, but never actually went in. We chose there. And I’m glad we did.

There was a DJ spinning some Jamaican style reggae tracks (among other genres) in the corner.
ME: You should have brought your rasta.
Tonnes of local art hung on the wall, which you could apparently buy.

The ‘art’ was mostly abstract framed pictures made from quality street wrappers.
ME: I think that one’s meant to be a face.
MEGAN: … *looks at me like I’m an idiot* I don’t think they’re meant to be anything.
We looked at the menu for a few minutes (lots of crepes, so you know where you need to go if you’re in Aberdeen and you’re desperate for a crepe) before Megan realised that our drinks were on the bar.
MEGAN: Our drinks are on the… *look of amazement* They’re going to take the coffee to us? No… NO!
But that they did.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so happy.

Apart from maybe this dog.

Pizza hut was the last place in town that was on our list. It was only at nine o’clock that it had died down enough so we could get a seat without waiting around.

But guess what?

They still made us wait around.



Megan wasn’t that happy with this.
MEGAN: They’ve clearly seen us. What the fuck do you think we’re doing here?!
But then a cute wee waiter came to see to us and that anger melted away:
WAITER: Hey guys, how are you doing tonight?
MEGAN: What?
WAITER: Are you okay?
MEGAN: Wehh! *throws hands in front of face*
The waiter clearly thought that she was in love with him and went out of his way to be wonderfully charming.

They made us wait ten minutes before the served us. Again, this wasn’t Megan’s idea of a good time.
MEGAN: *whispering menacingly* They’re having a laugh. What the fuck are they doing? *insert a random string of offensive words here*
Then the guy came over.
WAITER: Has no-one seen to you yet?
US: No.
WAITER: Oh, I’ll go get someone! Hold on.
US: Thank you!
*Megan turns to me*
MEGAN: … *offensive word landslide continues*
ME: You remind me of my Mum when you do that.
MEGAN: Do what?
ME: *impersonates Megan’s rant, aimed at the floor, looks up and smiles charmingly, only to resume whispering offensive words to the floor* She does it all the time with sales calls. “Oh, you’ve been so helpful!” *pretends to slam down the phone* They were not helpful at all!
MEGAN: We’re like twins then.
ME: Apart from my Mum doesn’t swear, like, EVER. Sometimes, when she gets really angry, she lets out a little crap.
Megan then stares at me for a split second before erupting into laughter. I do the same.
ME: *Between laughs* Not… not like that!
We saw guitar wifey at her usual spot (outside the Monkey House) and took this as a sign that the night was going to end well.

Which it did. We ended with our usual, ‘Fight Club’, before driving Megan home. I gave her a cuddle. She broke the sentimental moment:
MEGAN: Oh God, don’t cry!
ME: I’m not going to cry!
I didn’t. I know this is what she wants to do and I know that she’ll love it. It sucks that I won’t get to see her weekly, or fortnightly, and even monthly might be a stretch, but so long as she’s happy, I don’t mind too much about that.

Lauren xxx

P.S. This also happened:
ME: … And then Sara, you remember Sara?
MUM: Is that the girl who has a fetish for giraffes?
ME: … Yes Mum. Yes it is.
Didn’t know how to include that within the post. So there you go.

P.P.S. Also, got a tweet from a Highland Cow after admitting to the twitterverse that I would rather have a Highland Cow as a pet than a horse. Make of that as you will.

P.P.P.S Just attacked a Daddy Longlegs with a lightsaber. Honestly.

P.P.P.P.S Did anyone think that it was actually called a Dandy Longlegs? Or was that just me?

P.P.P.P.P.S I’ll shut up now.

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