This Saturday night I was running late to meet my friend. After running to the tube station and catching the tube just before it left, I suddenly became aware of how drunk everyone around me was. Sitting next to Black Swans, I listened to humorous, what can only be described as, playground chanting-tube singing, and then watching people attempt to pole dance on the tube, I finally after 10 minutes late reached my destination. I was going to someone I don’t knows house party. We stayed for 20 minutes because we were very bored and felt quite out of place knowing zero people, we wanted to leave quickly, so sneaked out and didn’t even say bye (rude, I know!).
But what we didn’t realise is that the exit is locked and you needed a key to get out.
We didn’t want to call the host because we felt bad about sneaking out. So we tried climbing over but couldn’t. After 15 minutes of failed attempts to get over the fence and trying to open the door, waiting for another person who lives in the building to turn up, my friend decided crawling under the metal fence would be the best option. My friend crawled under first and there I was at that defining moment in life conflicted between my own dignity to not admit to the host we had sneaked out and if she could please just help us get out, and instead just leave without suspicion or my own pride not to crawl under a fence like a convict. “So this is what it feels like to visit someone in prison”, my friend said laughing from behind the bars already free from the party. I decided to sacrifice my pride and crawled under.
After both snagging our dresses army crawling under the fence, we decided we definitely needed some cake after that experience.
So we went to Soho, to a restaurant called Spuntino, which is darkly lit, everyone eats around a bar and their speciality dessert is a peanut butter jelly sandwich. It is peanut butter ice cream shaped into triangles with raspberry jam in between.
The waiter was really friendly and came over to chat as my friend is always there. We also did a bourbon shot with him.
At 12:30am we left Spuntino. The disappointed waiter came over and said: “Aren’t you guys staying for the lock in?” (It was a joke, they were just closing.)
We should have but clambering under a metal fence, going to zone 5 on the tube earlier that day and doing a bourbon shot were all too many firsts for one day.