18 Sept. 2014
I’m sitting alone in a hostel which is blasting Tiger by Katy Perry and playing the James Bond film Live and Let Die on silent. The only way that combo could be more bizarre is if they were blasting the audio of Live and Let Die over the endlessly repeating music video for Tiger. The speaker above my head is deafening. I’m going to lose my hearing in a place that makes no sense.
Business suits, drunk girls, their gay friends, old men. Me with a notebook. Is this the saddest bar ever? Or is this the standard clubbing experience? Undecided. I just know that watching Roger Moore undo a dress zip with a magnet is not making the situation any less bleak. The waitress here is probably 20 but looks 40. All the attractive women here are standing outside, pretending they aren’t drinking here. As a non-drinker, am I worse for looking like I do drink here?
It seems weird calling people my age men and women – everyone still seems like boys and girls. There is no clear middle stage where you’re a young man or woman with no responsibility before you have kids or get married or start a career – there’s just being a boy or girl, then having kids and your life being over. That’s right, isn’t it? No one my age is an adult yet, even the ones with degrees and internships at Deloittes.
Coming to terms with being in control of my life is difficult when what I want to do is affected by the decisions of others. I’ve been turned down for both a comedy festival and a theatre job in the last two days. I’m listening to LMFAO and Lil Wayne blasting overhead and feeling like my heart wants to stop beating as a result, breath doesn’t want to come – my body is telling me it wants to die rather than listen to this music.
“If you ain’t getting drunk, get the fuck out the club!”
– Lil Wayne
“Here’s an idea: go fuck yourself Lil Wayne.”
– Me and anyone else with common sense
This is 70s James Bond. People are in flares. I’ve worn flares before; velvet ones with a matching jacket. Was I the most comfortable I’ve ever been? Yes. Did I look like a member of the Jackson 5? No, I’m not black and I can’t sing. But I still liked the pants. And am I the only person that thinks Roger Moore should have been shot several times in this film? And who does his hair? There is no way that guy is a spy.
The guy that played Jaws died this week.
Thsi place is literally all men. Music’s loud. Lights flashing.
Lots of black people in Live and Let Die, and Roger Moore is nowhere near as cool as any of them. Maybe I should be James Bond. Then I can wear my velvet 70s flare suit and me and the cast of James Bond can all party together. That would be fun. I really could be James Bond.
Probably not. I’m not English.
But neither is Sean Connery. I’ll bet Sean Connery never had to deal with shitty youth hostel bars. Maybe I should have been Scottish. Or Sean Connery.
Seriously, it’s all men. This sucks really really badly. That’s right, no comma in that last sentence – I wanted you to run it on with no breath to understand how dire the situation is.
I’m not saying women’s role in life is to entertain men by committing to at least a 50/50 ratio of females to males . . . but imagine if they did. It would make Katy Perry’s soundtrack to Live and Let Die acceptable.