Ugh, really annoyed with the social scene in Limerick. In Ireland for that matter. I must be getting really old because the concept of big pubs filled with groups of friends, and loud music just doesn't appeal to me. I so badly wanted to talk to the people who I went out with last night, and the atmosphere of too many people, and too little space, really loud music and too little time made the experience more stressful than enjoyable! I know it was Easter, so everyone who ever lived in Limerick was here, and for some reason, everyone who ever went to Nancy’s wanted to spend the evening there... I just can’t see the appeal anymore. Screaming over outdated pop music seems a little ridiculous.
I think we go out for a couple of reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, to meet up with friends, old and new. Usually it's old friends when it’s an event like Easter... to catch up. Seems like a great idea.
Secondly, we go out to see and be seen. We clean up and dress up, put on our masks, ready for the performance. If we are single, to try to find someone to go home with, and if we are attached, to look for someone better :) We go out to flirt, seeking attention, and approval. I think we also go out looking for something different, a new perspective, a triggering point of view, a complex conversation. Well, I do anyhow. I used to tell Adrian that the anticipation of a night out was something delicious, drinking in the house before going out was the best part: opening up the possibility that tonight, in the right outfit, surrounded by the right group of people, in the right destination, anything could happen.
Thirdly, we go out to get incredibly pissed. To relax, and forget the worries of work, of family, of relationships, and just go mad, act crazy, uninhibited, and unleashed. To have a good time. If that’s your idea of a good time.
But it’s funny because as a result of the first, second and third aims of a night out, we have developed a culture of super pubs. Centrally located spaces, designed with a defined age group in mind, where you can arrange to meet all of your different groups of friends, at the same time, in the same place. The fact that you are gathering with people of your own age makes it more likely that you will be attracted to someone in the vicinity, and looking all polished up as you are makes it more likely that you will draw attention to yourself from prospective partners. Single or not single. Drink is readily available, at a price affordable for everyone, because realistically we will pay whatever is necessary in order to fulfill our third objective, getting hammered.
These super pubs sound just that, super. Then why do I fucking hate them?
It’s become like a spectator sport, and a complete waste of time and energy, a lonely affair. You are alone when you battle to pass, single file, through the raging crowd, making eye contact as you go. You are alone when you need to use the facilities, barging your way through the same sea of unfamiliar faces. Alone when you get your drinks, and alone carrying them back to where you have managed to eak out a space for yourself, collected in small groups, standing your ground against the people trying to pass by, in this confined area, jacket in hand, perched in high heels which are designed for sitting, constrained to only making conversation with the person next to you, the third in a circle often spending the time drinking and smoking. Speaking loudly and clearly at your neighbour, so that they can lip read the words that are overwhelmed by the thumping music in the background, or in the foreground I should say, you are forced to drink more, to lubricate your vocal cords. Instead of a back and forth conversation, you end up talking in uninterrupted monologues, telling stories of your life, and just waiting for a nod of understanding. You may as well be talking to yourself. It’s now your neighbours turn to talk, and missing phrases here and there, you attempt to fill in the blanks yourself, too lazy to keep asking, "what?" and, "what?" and, "WHAT?”. With just enough information to get the gist, you nod along, any attempt to delve deeper into the mysteries of their life seeming like waaay too much trouble. The generalities are more than sufficient.
Separating from the cluster for long periods on end to complete the rituals of buying drinks, and pee breaks, in total the night consists of 5 or 6 separate monologue conversations, in 5 or 6 different groups, if you're lucky.
And what about the flirting and attention seeking? Is that somehow fulfilled on our singular walks to the toilet and back; to the bar and back? Fleeting eye contact with members of the opposite sex (or same sex if that's your thing) being mistaken for flirtation, as one or other parties is merely searching for recognizable features in periodic sweeping of the room, evoking the internal responses of, "do they fancy me?" or, "wow, he's hot".
That’s it? That’s "mating"? Finding a suitable partner? Who can find a partner in that atmosphere? When you can’t stop and talk to a guy you think is cute as you walk back from the bathroom because you are clogging up the whole procession of people behind you? What about trying to mount up the courage to say hi, not to mention the courage to butt in on his conversation with his intimidating group of friends? We are in the sense "together in one place", yet we are all alone, each group cut off from the next.
That reminds me, the third thing: Getting unbelievably pissed. Well, that one is pretty easy, because the time it takes you to walk to the bar and back, you may as well buy 2 while you're there, save you the return journey. And therein lies the solution to the previous problem: Only through the path of extreme drunkenness can you falsify enough courage to break down the barriers of intimidation, and lean over to talk to the cute guy poised at the stairs.
All three priorities fulfilled, at least for another week.
If you ask me, I think that the only people who are gaining by this are the super pubs. They sell a lot of drink, in double portions, to a huge amount of people. The music is so loud that people need to get drunker to really shout, they need to drink more to protect their voices, and gradually the drunkenness blocks out the discomfort of the constant noise. Atmosphere they call it.
Bullshit I call it. We are letting these companies redefine our idea of a good night out for their own profits. If they only put in tables and chairs, set a reasonable limit on the number of people allowed in, and reduced the volume to a more reasonable level, then it really would be a super pub.
I know places like this exist, I’m not re-inventing the wheel here; I just don’t understand why we don’t ever spend our money there.
I remember that in Mexico the guys at the table next to you would offer you beer, lean over, and start a conversation. They weren’t drunk, or even being intrusive, and not necessarily looking for shag; just to say hi, to share, and to break away from patterns of loneliness, to acknowledge our presence, and the importance of connection in a world more filled with people. For if not, we are all alone here. Distant from our oldest friends, distant from the people who we push past in our quest to buy more drink, distant from ourselves in the inability to even think straight because of the copious amounts of alcohol we need to drink in order to convince ourselves that we are "having fun" during it all. It’s like the only solution is to get drunk. That way, no matter what, you enjoy it. It’s like a band aid on a gaping wound. At least if you are drunk, you are unaware of your loneliness.
Maybe that’s a little deep… maybe I’m exaggerating just a tad… but then it’s a blog and I felt like venting, let me vent!
Happy Easter!
xxx
