Nun attempts groove, pushes luck.

So I, uh, went to a club night here in London last night. It was at Fabric, a club-cum-record-label* down in Farringdon.

Show hours: 2300-0700. These people start late, in the grandest techno tradition, and go hard.

Entry procedures: NHS COVID passports, or for us filthy Americans, CDC vaccination cards. I underwent the most thorough security screening I've ever experienced.

Staff: At least 80% Black, both bar and security. That tells me they don't have the jobs that pay decently.

Masks: Well, none. One dude had one under his chin. In a large but crowded basement space. I spent most of my night up in the less crowded mezzanine overlooking it.

Fabric doesn't pour heavily at all, and seeing as how I didn't want either myself or all the bros nearby to get too messed up, I'm OK with that.

Vibe: Super broey. A couple of times what sounded like soccer chants started up. That's one of the reasons I bugged out early. Read on.

I was sitting alone with my G&T, taking a load off, when this younger dude comes by and starts chatting with me. About my job, my son, Seattle, etc. He's the Wendling's age. Well, you know how I love to hold forth. Then he says he's digging the music and invites me to the dance floor. I go along. After a while he says he wants to go to one of the other rooms.

It's right around now that my spider senses start to twitch. I'm starting to wonder what this dude wants from me, so I beg off and tell him it was nice meeting him.

Between him, the soccer chants, one or two other minor incidents of broness, and my inability to feel the music right then** I considered leaving. I wondered about what my girlfriends would advise in this situation. I think they'd tell me to GTFO, so I did.

The night tube won't be a thing until spring at the earliest, I discovered, and I didn't feel like spending forever on the bus. On my way out I asked the coat check dude, "How bad an idea is it to walk from here to Angel tube?"
He was surprised. "It's OK if you like walking, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's about [inaudible]."
"I can do that."
He looked more surprised.
So I started walking around 0145. I got asked for directions again, and was again useless. But once I got onto Goswell Road and the last couple turned the corner in front of me, it was just yours truly and maybe ten delivery riders. Not drivers, riders, usually on scooters but sometimes on bikes. I didn't see anything or anyone suspicious. Lots of relatively new buildings, which makes me wonder if it got bombed during World War 2.

I ate breakfast at 0900 today, but I went back to bed until 1300. So much for adjusting my sleep schedule to something normal.

The moral of this story is that when it comes to clubbing, I'm a West Coast hippie. We're talking PLUR, a statue of the Buddha in front of the DJ, and no expectation of assholery, creepiness, or other bad vibes. And Fabric, turn off that damn smoke machine.



*Nothing here is just one thing, still.
**Though I must say it had its moments. London should thank its lucky stars for Afro-Caribbean influence.

Nun shops Camden!

I donned stripey clothes and low-heeled boots for a trip to Camden Market. The whole neighborhood around Camden Town tube was jumping on a sunny late summer Sunday afternoon, with one or two pretty good buskers and an astonishing number of tattoo parlors.

As for the market, which is really several agglomerated markets, think Pike Place Market on steroids, only with everything in brick buildings. I'm guessing some of them used to be used for transportation or storage.

They have food from market stalls that isn't gross! Yay curry!

I was already planning on looking at jewelry, i.e. something I can fit in my suitcase, when I realized I'd lost an earring, most likely in one of the Northern line tube stations. That was a sign. I'm now wearing black circuit board-in-resin earrings*. I got charmed by a necklace with wings, and I'll be wearing it out sooner or later. Those people selling me stuff were a little smarmy, but hey, they had the goods I wanted.

There's a big, shiny store for raver gear called Cyberdog. With a DJ in the mainly basement store**. On the one hand, they've done a fantastic job of mining that particular subculture for commercial gain. On the other, the raver in me is outraged.

My local Goths were correct about the Goth clothes that I saw: nothing really unique, more like what you'd find on the internet these days. I wasn't really looking for anything like that though, because a) I'd have to get it home, and b) I spent the first year of the pandemic engaging in revenge shopping.

I could have stayed longer than the three hours that I did, but my feet and my bladder weren't having any of that. All in all, though, I'd do that again. And Sunday is absolutely the day to go, I've discovered.



*I used to write software for designing circuit boards. These are nostalgic for me.
**Never mind Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere; the real London is already largely subterranean.

something in London that's only one thing

I spent so much time writing about my adventures this evening that it was pretty late when I got around to thinking about dinner. Unfortunately, the big Sainsbury's supermarket closes at 1700 on Sundays*. Luckily, Islington’s Upper Street has a wealth of cheapish eats, especially Asian ones. Fake chicken pho it is, with a "Pride punch" whose makers claim benefits the UK's Stonewall organization**.

In my secret heart, I lusted after dessert. Pinkberry was right next to the pho joint, but screw that. I walked up the street. I saw two ladies walking the other way eating an ice cream-like substance. Ah hah! I soon found the gelato joint. Jackpot! I ordered my blueberry cheesecake gelato in a cone, and watched the young lady behind the counter sculpt it into a rose as she put it into the cone, as if to compensate for only selling gelato.

London, yoh're chahming.



*Is it good that Seattle supermarkets stay open late every day as a matter of course? It is if you're a customer.
**Stonewall has taken flak from TERFs for its support of trans rights. Hell yes, I'll send them some cash.