These are a few snippets of conversations overheard in the Leeds University Union bars over the last month.
Location: The Old Bar, Monday Night
Two young guys dressed in practically identical stonewash jeans, short sleeved striped shirt combos, drinking bottles of Corona at the bar and engaged in a lively, slightly pissed up conversation.
Guy 1: I know you like her but y’know…?
Guy 2 : (masking wall of great pain with vibe of benevolent matey-ness) Well yeah, I do like her. She said …
Guy 1 : (interrupting with a tone of faux decency) It’s seriously taking every inch of my inner strength not to shag her, she’s gagging for it. But obviously you’re one of my best mates and I don’t want to mess you about.
Guy 2 : (the mask of joviality slipping) I’m taking her out on Thursday, I’ve booked a table at…
Guy 1: (interrupting again) So yeah, best to let you know it’ll probably happen tonight.
Feeling unable to stand it anymore I downed the rest of my pint and stumbled into the night feeling that humanity had finally bottomed out.
Location: Cash Machine in The Terrace Bar, Thursday afternoon
The queue at the cash machine was three people deep, at the front of the queue stood two thin bleached blonde Sloan-ranger type girls. One was actually wearing a wax jacket and flat cap. They both boasted extremely dark tans despite the miserable weather outside, and were taking their sweet time over their transaction.
Girl 1: (showing picture on mobile phone to friend) : So that’s Gus.
Girl 2: (in an impossibly posh voice) Oh you’re such a slag.
Girl 1: The worse thing is, I can’t remember whether I took this picture in New York or Cape Town.
Location: Terrace Bar outside seating area.
A guy who looks like a stretched Jeremy Irons wearing a Yasser Arafat style scarf is sat smoking a roll-up and pontificating loudly down his mobile phone. He reeks of self righteous arrogance gained through a gap year spent building sewerage systems with indigenous tribes somewhere in Central America. His untouched bottle of water sits neatly atop a copy of the Leeds Student. He could do with a good shave.
Guy: Dude, it doesn’t get better than Glasto. I smoked a spliff stood right next to Wiley.
(pausing briefly to pull a kit-kat from his bag)
Guy: …and my orders from Amazon arrived this morning. Yeah, the new edition of Das Kapital and Anchorman on DVD. They’re both wicked.
I momentarily flirted with the idea of taking a nose dive off the Terrace Bar roof but instead bought a pastie, drank another double Irish whiskey and dreamed of the day when I’ll open fire on a group of random passers by with an automatic weapon before turning the gun on myself.
