Saturday, February 27, 2010
I hung up the phone and rejoined my friends in the queue. I was shaking. Lise put her arm around me. Everyone knew I had been arguing with Taylor but didn’t want to pry. ‘You ok?’ Mel whispered. I nodded. I could understand Taylor but didn’t know what to do, I wished I had the balls to tell him to leave me alone but it would crush him. Was it best to just cut all ties and tell him to get on with it or let him carry on as he was with the hope that I just needed a bit of time to get my head together? We went into the club and Lise and Mel went straight to the dance floor to burn it up. I hit the bar, I needed a beer. I took a massive gulp of it and took in my surroundings. I was at an indie club in the west end. I’d never been here or anywhere like it before. Everyone was so meticulously alternative it was painful. I glanced down at my outfit, black t-shirt, jeans and pink converse, and felt so plain it was untrue. I swore that there must be a props cupboard in the building because everyone that passed by me had better, bigger and more exquisite accessories: feather boas, trilbies, huge sunglasses, ties, flowers, belts. And the hairstyles were unmentionable, one guy couldn’t see where he was going his hair was blow dried and sprayed across his face like a net.