Hot Sweaty Box
Last night, I went along to an event in the Masonic Lodge underneath the Great Eastern Hotel. I only really went because I wanted to check out the venue. A masonic temple in a hotel! I had to see it.
The night was really fucking wierd. It wasn’t helped by the fact that it was insanely hot and airless in there. The room was buried deep in the hotel and had no ventiliation. Or oxygen.
The second problem was that the bar was too expensive. I didn’t even really feel like drinking, but felt obliged to moisten my parched throat.
The main problem though, was that they read poetry and played ‘book bingo’. Now I’m no uncultured slut, but I like to be able to have a chat with my friends when I go out with them. Rather than having to sit in silence listening to someone I don’t want to listen to. I guess the main problem there was that I went to see a band, and by 10 o clock, the band hadn’t played. All we’d had was a lot of talk and a small interlude where a guy played a few songs which I wasn’t keen on.
The book bingo involved a well meaning lady handing out pages cut from ‘Last Exit In Brooklyn’ with a paragraph highlighted. If she read out your paragraph, you won. All the pargraphs contained rude words (ooh, naughty…erm)….. Posy won a book about mouth cancer.