blog 3

ME and Louise were meant to be having an evening of Smirnoff and nibbles but changed plans that day. We decided to go into town instead because this Ulster Fry article put us in the mood.  We haven’t been out in about three weeks and withdrawal was kicking in. Now that we’re able to, rekindling our friendship with the town has become a challenge.

Where is good these days? What’s on and will we get in now that we’re old as fuck were just some of the thoughts.

Madison’s is our go to spot because it’s full of divorcees and it makes us feel less like failures. The only thing is that with older people comes loose arse muscles, being hit up the face with varying scents of bowel made me heave. At times I begged for someone to light up a feg just to make it go away.

The band was very good, they’re on every week. The strawberry diaquiri’s were perfect. We needed to have four each to make sure the barman knew how to make them. I was talking to this guy at the bar, we had mutual friends. He was about 55 and kept reiterating he had a wife. Is this a thing? Are wedding rings not enough of a sign? While I was talking to the man my Ma’s age, Louise was talking to a couple from Galway. They were here for the weekend and were the best craic. They have three kids and she took him away because his head was lifting with them. They were the ultimate relationship goal couple.

We went downstairs to the nightclub and left after half an hour. The music there is normally good but the DJ kept double beating in between songs.


blog 2 (2)

That day I’d spotted a flyer on Twitter for Lavery’s. I was taken aback at the open to 3am line. I didn’t know clubs in Belfast were still open to that time. We found ourselves in The Ballroom getting wired into the Double Jim Beam and Diet Coke promo. It’s a really studenty bar. You can almost smell the chlamydia.

This is a good place to go to if you’re cougars like us and want your ego stroked, the men outnumber women by 5:1. We infiltrated a crowd of late twenties Conor McGregor wannabes. The music was random AF. But that’s what I like. I vaguely remember Slim Shady and The Streets being played. This was my shit.

Upstairs is another even better club. If you went to Event Horizon or Stiff Kitten then this is it’s wee sister minus the e faces and coke heads. It was odd being in a nightclub where nobody was quite obviously off their nuts. It must be exam season or something.

As usual the taxi situation was dire.  We walked to Jury’s Inn and rang our local depot to pick up ‘staff’.  It wasn’t a lie, Louise’s niece worked there but left four years ago.  We were home in minutes.

So in true form, I lost a day in bed lying in the recovery position beside a basin but now know where’s good to go in town. Even if I felt like someone’s granny in looking for them.