Ich kenne ein lustiges Spiel...
Aug. 6th, 2008 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeNEWCASTLE MEET - SUNDAY 3rd AUGUST
Picture the scene. Two wolves had just awoken from their slumber, wrapped around each other and one with silly blond hair (although I can hardly talk with my faded Boris Johnson purple). The birds were chirping in the trees, the sky was as grey as only the finest Teesside smog could provide and one of the creatures was about to have an argument with a taxi firm. This, my friends, was how the meet started for me...
Failing to turn up until five minutes before I needed to catch my train is sure to incur my wrath, particularly when said taxi had just spent 15 minutes sat down the far end of the road waiting for Mr and Mrs Nobody to take their kids to Never Never Land. But the park has closed down, the staff have all been fired and now there is less hope than there is for Venessa Feltz in her local Greggs store. Still, I digress.
We somehow made the train, which sent me into cataclismic laughter (running practically every red light helped). I had given the taxi firm a good rollicking over the phone but as we had got the train, I somehow felt compelled to apologise so I phoned them back to do just that. Curse my inflated sense of guilt. Still, we were on the train and only the lack of a Free Range Egg Sandwich at CostaLota Coffee at Darlington station dampened my mood.
By the time we got to Newcastle Central, I found out that seven others had got there before us. I was even interrupted when buying my hot chocolate and inevitable shoebox o' cookies that I tried flogging to anyone who would want them. For some reason, no one was particularly taken by them so I ate most of them, causing me to become fat and bloated.
By midday we had a nice gaggle of furs, all eager, all bright eyed and all undoubtedly thinking about yiff or alcohol. So we descended to the pub that has no doors on the toilets (well, it's one way to stop yiffy behaviour although it does hamper things when you need a poo - as I found out to my cost on Sunday) and our usual downstairs solitude. I had lots of Smarties cocktails that no one apart from me seemed to like. But meh, they're gorgeous so there :P
We had intended to go for a picnic but the heavy showers that were forecast promised that it would only be fun to anorak fetishists and as I was unsure as to how many of those we had in the crowd, I decided that hiring the pub out (at hideously short notice - 18 hours to be precise) may be an idea and then we would see how things progressed from there. As it turned out, it chucked it down faster than Cilla Black with bladder control issues so an alternative plan had to be crafted.
Nightwind had a friend who had agreed to do an artistic commission of the Newcastle Meet and he was asking the furs in attendence whether they would be interested in having their picture drawn so in 100 years time, the an(n)als of history would record the fact that such a meeting took place. This would undoubtedly aid the dissertation of some poor history postgrad in some dusty halls of residence as he desperately wished for an end to the perpetual nightmare and to be just left alone (not that I am bitter in anyway of course).
I sat on a chair like Sharon Stone in that god-awful film but luckily for everyone, I still had my clothes on. This was particularly welcoming tokenno_fox, kiffylee and the rest of the Preston crew (names escape me at the moment - I'm more tired than Terry Waite without the r) who turned up around 2pm after a long treck east. I'm always happy to see the Lancastrians, not only because they are cool furs, but because if they are willing to travel so far, it means that the meet is being appreciated.
Either way, I asked people if they fanced bowling, most did, but they may have thought I had written boweling. But with the toilet doors off (a scene so sadly deleted from The Italian Job - "you were only supposed to blow the bloody toilet doors off") that was a non-starter and Star had told us of a magical land full of pool and bowling, of arcades and pubbage that was too good to be true. When I found out it was next to a B&Q I knew we just had to go.
I had spent most of my time in the bar talking to a guy who was perplexed as to who we were. Upon telling him, he loved the idea of furry and said that if we wanted promoting, to get in touch with him. I don't know what kind of promotion this would mean but perhaps you know. Answers on the back of a poorly constructed flyer to the usual address (or perhaps you could just annoy people in the middle of shopping centres by offering £1 off the latest miracle detergent).
So up to Benton, which I got confused with Longbenton. It's a Long story and I won't go into it here. Suffice to say, getting 33 furs (it was our second largest Newcastle meet) on the Metro, particularly when the first train was not the one we wanted to catch, was difficult. But we managed and at the other end, the "five minute walk" that was miraculously twenty, didn't phase anyone.
Due to circumstances, I do not know what happened at the bowling alley but I am assured that everyone had a good time. I hope everyone did and I am sorry I had to leave. But under the circumstances, it was probably the best thing and everything worked out in the end. I was to meet up with the other furs two and a half hours later in the delightful facade that is Newcastle Central station.
I had spent the previous time withbluewoozle, good friend and otter extraordinaire. As we waited for the others, who wolfie_uk so kindly help direct in my absence, we talked about life, love and Prison Tycoon. It was good catching up with Blue, we get on well, but time was pressing, as were the pangs of hunger.
Taking 25 people (for we had diminished in number, some had wandered off like dogs with itchy balls) to a restaurant en spec was probably never a good idea so we thought that a Chinese buffet place in the aptly named Chinatown (read one street) was the best place to go. We went there, the food was good if unspectacular, I ate chips and samosas and pretty much nothing else (as usual) and I was reacquainted with the crisp refreshingness of Tsing-Tao. For that fresh Japanese taste, go for Tsing-Tao. Also two people neglected to pay for their buffet, meaning I had to sub them £17. Whoever these people are, payment would be appreciated.
We somehow made the train, which sent me into cataclismic laughter (running practically every red light helped). I had given the taxi firm a good rollicking over the phone but as we had got the train, I somehow felt compelled to apologise so I phoned them back to do just that. Curse my inflated sense of guilt. Still, we were on the train and only the lack of a Free Range Egg Sandwich at CostaLota Coffee at Darlington station dampened my mood.
By the time we got to Newcastle Central, I found out that seven others had got there before us. I was even interrupted when buying my hot chocolate and inevitable shoebox o' cookies that I tried flogging to anyone who would want them. For some reason, no one was particularly taken by them so I ate most of them, causing me to become fat and bloated.
By midday we had a nice gaggle of furs, all eager, all bright eyed and all undoubtedly thinking about yiff or alcohol. So we descended to the pub that has no doors on the toilets (well, it's one way to stop yiffy behaviour although it does hamper things when you need a poo - as I found out to my cost on Sunday) and our usual downstairs solitude. I had lots of Smarties cocktails that no one apart from me seemed to like. But meh, they're gorgeous so there :P
We had intended to go for a picnic but the heavy showers that were forecast promised that it would only be fun to anorak fetishists and as I was unsure as to how many of those we had in the crowd, I decided that hiring the pub out (at hideously short notice - 18 hours to be precise) may be an idea and then we would see how things progressed from there. As it turned out, it chucked it down faster than Cilla Black with bladder control issues so an alternative plan had to be crafted.
Nightwind had a friend who had agreed to do an artistic commission of the Newcastle Meet and he was asking the furs in attendence whether they would be interested in having their picture drawn so in 100 years time, the an(n)als of history would record the fact that such a meeting took place. This would undoubtedly aid the dissertation of some poor history postgrad in some dusty halls of residence as he desperately wished for an end to the perpetual nightmare and to be just left alone (not that I am bitter in anyway of course).
I sat on a chair like Sharon Stone in that god-awful film but luckily for everyone, I still had my clothes on. This was particularly welcoming to
kenno_fox, kiffylee and the rest of the Preston crew (names escape me at the moment - I'm more tired than Terry Waite without the r) who turned up around 2pm after a long treck east. I'm always happy to see the Lancastrians, not only because they are cool furs, but because if they are willing to travel so far, it means that the meet is being appreciated.Either way, I asked people if they fanced bowling, most did, but they may have thought I had written boweling. But with the toilet doors off (a scene so sadly deleted from The Italian Job - "you were only supposed to blow the bloody toilet doors off") that was a non-starter and Star had told us of a magical land full of pool and bowling, of arcades and pubbage that was too good to be true. When I found out it was next to a B&Q I knew we just had to go.
I had spent most of my time in the bar talking to a guy who was perplexed as to who we were. Upon telling him, he loved the idea of furry and said that if we wanted promoting, to get in touch with him. I don't know what kind of promotion this would mean but perhaps you know. Answers on the back of a poorly constructed flyer to the usual address (or perhaps you could just annoy people in the middle of shopping centres by offering £1 off the latest miracle detergent).
So up to Benton, which I got confused with Longbenton. It's a Long story and I won't go into it here. Suffice to say, getting 33 furs (it was our second largest Newcastle meet) on the Metro, particularly when the first train was not the one we wanted to catch, was difficult. But we managed and at the other end, the "five minute walk" that was miraculously twenty, didn't phase anyone.
Due to circumstances, I do not know what happened at the bowling alley but I am assured that everyone had a good time. I hope everyone did and I am sorry I had to leave. But under the circumstances, it was probably the best thing and everything worked out in the end. I was to meet up with the other furs two and a half hours later in the delightful facade that is Newcastle Central station.
I had spent the previous time with
bluewoozle, good friend and otter extraordinaire. As we waited for the others, who wolfie_uk so kindly help direct in my absence, we talked about life, love and Prison Tycoon. It was good catching up with Blue, we get on well, but time was pressing, as were the pangs of hunger.Taking 25 people (for we had diminished in number, some had wandered off like dogs with itchy balls) to a restaurant en spec was probably never a good idea so we thought that a Chinese buffet place in the aptly named Chinatown (read one street) was the best place to go. We went there, the food was good if unspectacular, I ate chips and samosas and pretty much nothing else (as usual) and I was reacquainted with the crisp refreshingness of Tsing-Tao. For that fresh Japanese taste, go for Tsing-Tao. Also two people neglected to pay for their buffet, meaning I had to sub them £17. Whoever these people are, payment would be appreciated.
After that, people started to filter off. A few of us (Shergar, Blue,
_draken_ Rogue and others) headed to the Centurion in the station for a few more beers as we waited for our trains. It may have been a tough, tiring day and one where I didn't speak to everyone anywhere near as much as I would have liked but it was still a good one and hopefully a success. Hopefully, I will see you all next month :-)P.S. Last night I spoke to my good friend
baloki again. It's always great speaking to him and he has made me realise that I really don't phone people often enough. We had a great chat about all sorts of furry fun (and furry politics, a favourite topic of mine), as well as the nature of cake, jobs and the pointlessness of naked waffles. Thanks for the talk hun, I had great fun *hugs*
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