Tuesday, November 20, 2007

South London

I woke up early, neatly packed my clothes and gathered all my film materials. I was calm and collected and basically thinking rationally. I had a cocky feeling because I’d just screened in another country and met some cool motherfuckers and the ink on my immigration stamp was even 72 hours old – you don’t filmmake like I filmmake. All of this chatter is beside the point because I’m about to take the show on the road. Today I go to London.

I got to the station an hour before my train departed. I wasn’t taking any chances. It has become very clear to me that one of the hazards of the “whirl-wind tour” is that you are only in each location once, and you change locations every 1-3 days. That means that if I left something behind, I was fucked. I made myself two promises; I wouldn’t lose my passport and I wouldn’t lose my laptop…everything else after that was expendable.

I’m carrying a 4ft hockey bag, my satchel and a laptop bag and a rectangular athletic bag. It was pretty awkward on the first day, but I was getting the hang of it. I was only having a partial heart attack every other block, so I considered that to be an improvement.

I’ve got at least another 40 min’s before my train arrives. I’m camped out on the platform with my family of bags stacked neatly beside me and I’m listening to Quasimoto…affectionately known as Lord Quas which I sure means nothing to you non-underground cats so for all my hip-hop challenged readers…Quasimoto is also Madlib. I’m bumping “Civilization Day” and nodding my head and rhyming with Lord Quas. This illicts strange looks from the crowd because apparently Brit’s don’t stand on train platforms and rhyme…well I guess free trade is a bitch.

The train arrives and it’s mad crowded. I mean I had to hustle just to get on the bitch. There was a fair amount of pushing and shoving. Ok, that’s not true cause the Brit’s don’t really get down like that unless they are fighting (and these motherfuckers will knock you out…don’t get it twisted) but it’s kind of tense in the train car. I decided to stash my bags in the nearest overhead rack I could find to avoid that jockeying for position in the dedicated luggage area. That turned out to be my wisest move because every time the train stopped it was baggage drama and I had nothing to do with it.

I’m tired as fuck but I won’t let myself fall asleep. Mainly because I really don’t know where the fuck it is I’m going. I mean I know I’m getting off at Euston Station…but that means fuck-all to me. I can’t understand what anyone is saying over the loudspeaker and it’s tough to ask a stranger a question. My accent is inpenetratable for most of the Brit’s.

So there I was, sitting in my seat trying to catch an unsecured signal so I could check my email. The goddamn wireless router was down at the Bed and Breakfast so I’ve been going to public libraries and hence I haven’t really spent a lot of time in my email account. Next thing I knew my headphones were making a strange beeping sound. That was the sound of my finger on the “K” button because I had fallen asleep on the key board. I’ve got drool on my face and my dreads are looking scary.

I pull my shit together just in time as the train entering Euston station. I let almost the entire train depart before I grabbed my bags. I tend to walk faster than most people because I’m carrying such a load. Inevitably, I get behind some really fucking slow people, with a bag with wheels – that are reading advertisements or some shit and I’m trying to put an end to me being stuck behind them.

I went about 600 meters before I had to put the bags down. Not bad for a 38 yr old motherfucker with a 4 blunt a day habit. I’d learned a lot in my few days on the road. I park bags in one spot and watch them if I’m going to stand in line. I walk to the taxi stand or the book store or whatever…but always a destination…none of this walking around carrying bags shit, that’s mad inefficient.

I got to the main floor of the station and made a line straight for the Taxi stand. I wasn’t trying to fuck around doing some tourist bullshit. I was no “tourist” and to be honest…there’s a lot of shenanigans and robbery going on in this train station and I was not going to be one of these victims. It was about a 200 meter trek to the taxi stand and then I had to try and make myself understood. Much to my surprise they had no problem understanding me once I got to London. It turns out that my communication difficulties were due to the fact that I had been up north. It’s a bit rural and traditional and 6ft weed smoking black guys aren’t exactly the status quo.

The taxi driver was a really nice guy. He asked me if I’d ever been to England before which I had, but when I was really young. He asked me if I was here for the tourist shit and I was like “fuck no”…I wanna meet some Brit’s and live like they live. After the answer he started telling me the real deal about CCTV and the royals and all the shit that goes down on this Island. He told me about face recognition software around Buckingham Palace and how too many chicks cry like they were related to Princess Diana…the guy was a fucking riot.

He dropped me off at my hotel (if you can call it that) and he was off. You would have thought that everything was cool, but it wasn’t. They have no reservation for me, they have no idea who I am or what the fuck I am doing here. Now, I’m used to this type of reaction but not in another country when the dollar is stumbling. I was really not trying to do my homeless man impression for 4 days and thought I was about to be taken to the cleaners for a room.

It turns out that he had a vacancy for the next 4 days and they could fit me in, but the room does not have a private bathroom. It has a private shower but the shitter is in the hallway. No biggie as far as I was concerned. I had learned a lot in my 2.5 days in Europe; specifically that in the states the rooms are huge and we’re really uptight about a lot of things…like where we take a shit. I took this public toilet thing as a sign that I needed to chill the fuck out (and also start paying a lot more for rooms when I travel).

I got inside my room and it was pretty big and pretty quite. There wasn’t what I’d call a cool or friendly clientele in the place, but that made it all the more exciting. Maybe there were terrorists staying near me, or secret agents or who the fuck knows…but how much fun can you really have in a Holiday-Inn express?

Unlike my trip up north I had made preparations to have a lot of fun when I got to London….It’s London for fuck’s sake…I have to have some kind of plan. That plan was Craigslist. Go ahead, laugh if you want but CL is where it’s at then you travel. I posted and ad that said something along the lines of “Yankee filmmaker is coming to the UK to talk smack and to meet some peoples”. It seemed like a really good idea when I ran the ad and to be honest it was a good idea. The problem was they really don’t use phrases like “talk smack” or “peoples” in the UK. So initially I got razzed a lot about it, but I did meet a few people who consented to take me out. …his name is David Lumby…I call him Lumby. One of the things that made me seem really cool to the Brit’s is that I gave everyone I met a nickname. Apparently that doesn’t happen all that often in the UK. They loved that I was doing this kind of shit on the fly. I mean it’s not even an American thing…it’s a hip-hop thing (you wouldn’t understand).

Anyway Lumby actually answered my ad before I had left the states (you have to run the ads kind of early stoners) and we had made plans to hook up as soon as I got to London. So I’d been in my room for all of about 3 hours. I’d walked around and scoped the local streets and got my bearings, which is something that I vowed to do every place I went. Anyway so I couldn’t find anything I really wanted to eat so I decided on some take out. I got a cheeseburger and some fries which I know is not the most exotic thing to consume…especially when you are in London. But let’s be honest here, the Brit’s cannot cook. No, seriously they can’t; they try really hard and they are extremely polite but you could really starve to death with the poor taste of a lot of the food.

Anyway, so I’m in the room with a belly full of a greasy cheeseburger and the worst fries I’ve ever consumed in my life (and I’ve eaten a lot of fries). I was on line chatting up a sexy women whom I have had an i-relationship with for more than two years. Laugh if you want by my online relationships are way more satisfying that listening to Melissa lie to my face or have Jamie make promises that she has no ability to keep. Sure, the online thing is a fantasy, but it’s my fantasy and it goes how I want it to go. So I’m chatting with this woman who I’ve wanted to fuck since Bush got into office…and now she’s got her webcam up and she’s rubbing her pussy (it’s all about a broadband connection people)… I’ve got a few of the desk people on the look-out for weed (I haven’t been high in 4 days and I am having withdrawal) and low and behold Lumby calls me on the phone. He has to leave London tomm and tonight is his only night to hang out. He wants to know if I can find the West-end and meet him there. I was really not prepared to have this conversation right now. I mean this chick is about to fuck her pussy with a cucumber with my name written on the side…and now it’s adventure time…what the fuck?

Lumby isn’t being a dick but he sure is making me feel like a pussy for not wanting to go. I mean yeah, I came here to party; but my belly is fully and my cock is hard…this is a tough choice. And, I have no fucking idea where the West-end is or how to get there. He asks me which tube station I’m near and I have no fucking idea. My only option is to go up to the front desk and ask the Croatian/Serbian motherfuckers for directions. I mean you wanna talk about a heavy accent…I never know what the fuck these guys are talking about and I’m supposed to ask them for directions…are you fucking kidding me?

I tell Lumby to give me 10 and I’ll figure some shit out. I was really planning on blowing him off. I don’t know Lumby and besides when he was in LA (two weeks ago) he couldn’t find his way to me on 3 or 4 consecutive nights so he can’t hate on me. But then I got that bad feeling…you know that feeling that I’m just a hack…that I only really have sex by myself on a keyboard and that I lack the necessary social and emotional requirements to have a real life. I decided then that I was going to get direction and meet Lumby and make shit happen. If I’m afraid to leave my fucking hotel room then how the fuck am I going to make a feature?

As I walked up the dark hallway (you could film a rape scene in this bitch) I tried to be cool. I tried to convince myself that all I had to do was ask this guy and everything would be cool. As I entered the office I got a strange look from the two dudes in there.

COOPRDOG
Hey man… can you tell me how to get to the West End?

SERBIAN CAT #1
(heavy eastern European accent) You want to get to the West End?

Now before I get deep into this let me tell you that repeating what someone has asked you in the UK is they way that people make sure that they understood what you just asked them. But in the States it tends to mean that the person didn’t understand you…or that what you have asked is incomprehensible. So a lot of the time I thought I was being completely misunderstood…they were just making sure they understood me…yeah, the States is way different than the rest of the planet….

COOPRDOG
Yes, the West End.

The guy then gets up and starts looking through papers and such and I think he’s just totally ignoring me, but he was looking for a bus schedule…he found it and then began to speak really quickly.

SERBIAN CAT #1
(Heavy East European accent)…blah…blah….blah….bustop….blah….blah….number 47…blah …blah…tube station….blah blah… by 10 pm or you are fucked.

COOPRDOG
Uh…ok…

SERBIAN CAT #2
(Heavy East European accent)…It’s not that bad…he just talks fast here I’ll give you a map.

This dude boots his friend off the PC and does a trip finder search and prints out 6 pages of alternative connection and bus routes. He tells me that Vauxhall station is the end of the line and I can’t miss it. Just don’t get off the bus.

SERBIAN CAT #1
It’s easy

SERBIAN CAT #2
Very easy

I left their office totally confused with 10 pages of directions from an old color printer that needs toner…this is a suicide mission.

I went back to my room and called Lumby and told him what the crazy eastern European motherfuckers said to me. He laughed and told me not to worry… that all I had to do was get to a tube station and find a train to Piccadilly’s circus (whatever dude, lemme see you find Pico Robertson from the valley).

He tells me not to worry, that it’s easy…that’s like the trademarked answer in these parts. I had a bad feeling as I got dressed for this thing. I packed my bag deep with screeners (I have 60 to give out remember) and tried to find my coolest t-shirt (MF DOOM) and I was out the door.

I cued up some MF DOOM on my MP3 player and put my crazy hat on and walked out of the hotel. I was probably about to be gang raped and left for dead, but hey… who wants to live forever. The only thing I could really remember from what the Serbian cats said (yeah…like I’ve met enough Serbians to catch their accent) was to keep walking west. I soon realized that the bus routes are posted at each bus stop…and the buses are named by their final destination.. .which for me was Vauxhall station… so that made it easy.

It was two quid to get on the bus and then I had to pay attention. In LA you can’t just get on the bus (like there are a lot of buses in LA), you have to know where you are getting off and all that shit, or you are gonna get jacked. The bus came to a stop and the bus driver told us to get the fuck off so I assumed that this was the last stop. I followed the crowd into Vauxhall station…step one accomplished.

This station is huge. As a matter of fact every station in this country is huge, they mostly use public transportation so it figures. I felt a fair amount of anxiety as I tried to find a train to Piccadilly.

I saw a station agent and approached him and his friend.

COOPRDOG
Excuse me, can you tell me where to get a train to Piccadilly?

STATION AGENT #1
Piccadilly you say?

STATION AGENT #2
Piccadilly. I haven’t been there in years

STATION AGENT #1
Really? Why that?

STATION AGENT #2
What the bloody hell do I need with nippers and Yankee tourists looking for drunk women

They both stop and look right at me.

COOPRDOG
It’s cool, I’m a Yankee… I like to fuck chicks

They burst out laughing and pat me on the back.

STATION AGENT #2
You’re alright mate. Go to the ticket office and tell them you want to hop on the Piccadilly line, just follow the signs to the Piccadilly platform.

COOPRDOG
What direction

STATION AGENT #1
You can only go south from here so...you’re at the end of the line.

COOPRDOG
Oh.. thanks…

The next thing I knew I had a ticket in my hand and was on my way to the platform. I was walking around this long sweeping turn in this tunnel thing as I approached the platform. So there’s this guy in front of me that starts motioning to me. He’s telling me to move closer to him. I was really not in the mood for some weird shit but he keeps motioning and looking back at me. He’s not slowing down or anything he just keep motioning faster and faster. As I came around the turn with a strange look on my face from this guy’s actions I saw that the train was there waiting. I ran onto the car right behind him and the doors closed right after me.

DUDE THAT WAS IN FRONT OF ME
I wasn’t trying to fuck you mate, you gotta relax.

The dude was right. As an American I really needed to chill the fuck out and stop thinking that everyone is out to get me. See Bush and Homeland security and all the other shit that they scare us with in the States does have an effect. I have inadvertently become suspicious of nearly anyone that wasn’t like me…I was embarrassed.

6 minutes later I got off the subway and surfaced at Piccadilly. When my Blackcherry got a signal I had 4 text messages from Lumby and I was thinking that he had just bailed on me…if he did I was going to talk about him forever. He stated in his text messages that his battery was low and that if his phone died he’d be in front of the Virgin Megastore.

Great, the mission just gets more complicated. But I found him like 3 minutes later and we hugged each other. Yeah I know…that seems gay to a lot of you here in the states but Jesus fucking Christ…the homophobia is outta hand in the states… sometimes people are just happy to see you and embrace you. We walked around and talked shop and he asked me what I wanted to do

COOPRDOG
I wanna drink some pints and look at some birds

He burst out laughing.

LUMBY
You’ve been here all of 3 days and you already sound like a Londoner.

We walked around The West End which is just a drinkfest if you ask me. People are just club hopping and stumbling around and all kinds of shit…when the Brit’s party… they Party. As Lumby tried to think of a place to go he suddenly thought of the perfect spot. He told me that when he was single that he used to fuck mad chicks out of this bar (uh… we should go there… like, yesterday). As we approach the bar he looks at my feet and frowns.

COOPRDOG
What the fuck are you frowning at?

LUMBY
No tenni’s man!

COOPRDOG
Tenni’s…what the fuck are you talking about?

LUMBY
Most of the clubs require shoes.

See that’s one of the weird things with England. You can wear jeans and t-shirts and drink your face off and pass out on a park bench…but don’t wear no fucking sneakers! We argued a little bit and then found a spot that would let me in… so it was all good.

We walked in the place checked our jackets and bags and got the party started. It was crazy packed and they were drinking like they were in college (ok…they are in college.. what’s your point??). Lumby got the first round and we started to talk but it was so fucking loud. We walked around and found a quiet hallway to talk in.

I told him about my plan to tour the UK and to see if SLZ was as good as I thought it was. I told him that I wanted to learn new skills and that I make myself do things (if he only knew what it took for me to leave the hotel room). He said he admired me and told me to never stop doing that shit. I don’t remember what he said because all these hot chicks kept walking past us. I mean it was insane. I couldn’t believe that there were this many hot chicks in one bar. I mean we have hot chicks in LA…but you can’t really talk to them…hell you can’t even really look at them. But here, everyone is so fucking friendly.

In the middle of his next sentence I blurted out “Now that’s what I’m talking about”. Lumby busted out laughing and I told him to continue. But every woman that walked by me kept checking me out or (maybe that was the pint talking); and then this drunk chick stumbles by and smiles at me.

DRUNK CHICK
You’re cute

COOPRDOG
You’re perceptive

She laughs and walks off.

LUMBY
Do you always do that?

COOPRDOG
Do what?

LUMBY
Flirt that quickly?

COOPRDOG
Lumby, I live in LA…you don’t get a lot of pitches so…you gotta swing man…you gotta swing.

We talk some more and then she is coming back again. She’s having trouble negotiating the steps and has to pause to find her balance.

COOPRDOG
Here she comes.. watch this, watch this.”

The drunk chick stumbles towards me and even though she doesn’t stumble I reach out to catch her and she falls into my arms.

COOPRDOG
Are you ok, you looked like you were about to fall

DRUNK CHICK
Please, you just wanted to touch me.

COOPRDOG
I could have fondled you several times by now if that was my plan.

DRUNK CHICK
Where are you from?

COOPRDOG
The States

DRUNK CHICK
I love Americans!

She grabs me and give me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

DRUNK CHICK
How long have you been here?

COOPRDOG
The club, or London or the UK?

DRUNK CHICK
All three

COOPRDOG
10 minutes, 6 hours and 3 days.

DRUNK CHICK
You’ve only been in this club for 10 minutes?

COOPRDOG
Oh, I thought you asked me how long I’ve been in love with you?

She gets a big shit eating grin on her face.

DRUNK CHICK
You’re a sweetie…you should come find me later.

She waves goodbye as I watch her walk away.

COOPRDOG
She has a great ass!

LUMBY
Dude, that was crazy. Do you always do that?

COOPRDOG
What? What are you talking about? Telling lies…I tell lies all day.

LUMBY
No, I mean pick up women.

COOPRDOG
I don’t know about the UK rules, but in the states it doesn’t qualify as a pick up till she leaves with you.

LUMBY
Well we’re suckers for American culture so you’re gonna do fine in here.

COOPRDOG
Oh, you should have never told me that. (as I finish my pint)… I’m dry are you ready?

LUMBY
Ok maybe one more…I can’t get too drunk?

COOPRDOG
Why do you have a test in the morning? And what the fuck it too drunk??

LUMBY
I’m just saying I have to get up and work in the morning

COOPRDOG
Yeah and I don’t know where my passport is and I haven’t taken a shit in two days…do I look worried? Let’s drink a little.

And with that we went back down to the main floor to get more drinks. On the way out of the hallway I spot the liquor babe coming our way

LIQUOR BABE
Shooters boys?

COOPRDOG
I’m sorry you want to shoot me?

LIQUOR BABE
(Laughing): I might do a lot to you, but shooting you isn’t one of them

COOPRDOG
Oh really?

LIQUOR BABE
Yes.

COOPRDOG
So what are those?

LIQUOR BABE
It’s alcohol.

COOPRDOG
Really, I thought that was Gatorade you were selling for 10 quid a piece.

LIQUOR BABE
(Laughs) You’re a funny one. Where are you from?

COOPRDOG
The US

LIQUOR BABE
Man, that’s awesome. I might have to give you one for free.

COOPRDOG
Is there anything else you’d like to give away.

LIQUOR BABE
Oh aren’t you a cheeki fucker! So what’s it going to be?

COOPRDOG
Well it’s not that I don’t like the look of those shot glasses surrounding your…uh assets

LIQUOR BABE
My tits are big you can say it.

COOPRDOG
Ok, your big tits…but it’s kind of early for me to be giving you all my money…but in about an hour.

LIQUOR BABE
How about I do a three for one for you and your friend?

COOPRDOG
Lumby isn’t into threesomes I already tried that with a drunk chick in the bathroom.

LIQUOR BABE
(Laughs hard): Oh, you’re trouble.

COOPRDOG
You really have no idea. But I’ve got to get Lumby a pint or he’s gonna kill someone. But you should find me later.

LIQUOR BABE
I might do that

And the liquor babe walks off

LUMBY
You should be on the Tele with that kind of routine.

COOPRDOG
What…and get my game exposed. It only works cause they believe it to be true.

We walk through the massive crowd and make our way to the bar. Since it’s my round Lumby drops back and I approach the bar. The crowd is so fucking drunk, everyone is fucking drunk. It’s not even 11pm and there are like 4 or 5 people passed out on tables. I guess this is a typical night on the West End.

As I’m standing in line I see three of the hottest women I’ve seen I think ever and they are kind of looking over at me. Now I’m not dumb enough to react to this but I’m sure I am being talked about. Then one of the hot chicks approaches me.

HOT CHICK #1
Are you from the West Indies?

COOPRDOG
Nah baby!

HOT CHICK #2
Where are you from

COOPRDOG
LA baby!

HOT CHICKS IN UNISON
He’s an American!

Next thing I know there’s hugging and kissing and I’m like their best friend. I look over at Lumby and he’s just shaking his head.

HOT CHICK #3
Can I try your glasses on?

COOPRDOG
UH.. .what for?

HOT CHICK #3
C’mon now…you’re a big guy… I’m sure you can handle a little girl like me

And she takes my glasses off my face and puts them on and begins to dance around and smile at me. I know that this is not going to go my way. This is not physically possible. After about 30 seconds I get my glasses back and my pints and I’m ready to bounce…no way am I falling for this.

COOPRDOG
Are you three going to be here all night?

HOT CHICK #1
Unless we find someone better to do

COOPRDOG
Yeah…ok. We’ll see if you mean what you say

HOT CHICK #2
You know where to find us.

I walked back to Lumby and handed him his pint

LUMBY
I think I’m slowing you down.

COOPRDOG
Please, they’re full of shit

LUMBY
Yeah well if that’s what shit looks like…then rub it on me.

COOPRDOG

I know it looked good but they have to be trying to make someone jealous. I mean all that needed was a lesbian kiss and some titty flashing …they’re up to something.

And almost on cue the drunk chick walks by and hits me in the ass spilling my pint and Lumby’s pint.

COOPRDOG
Man with a beverage!

LUMBY
Ok, you have to make a decision.

COOPRDOG
Please… she’s already hammered. I can stick my cock in my dogs mouth if I want it to be slobbered on and chewed up.

LUMBY
Good point.

COOPRDOG
I doubt she’ll make it to midnight. Besides, let’s go find the liquor babe and make the wanna be models jealous.


LUMBY
Hey man it’s late. I’m about to go.

COOPRDOG
Lumby! Desertion is a capital offense.

LUMBY
There and no Capital offenses in the UK.

COOPRDOG
Man, that was a good joke though..you have to give me that.

LUMBY
It was, but I’m still leaving. Besides I see some fucking in your future. Call me before you leave London.

And just that Lumby was gone. I was on my third pint (or fourth I can’t count…I went to public school) and I was looking for trouble. I found the drunk chick and tried to dance with her but she was way too fucked up to dance (or maybe she just can’t dance). I suggested we go back to her table and sit down. We did that and she started to get all touchy feely.

DRUNK CHICK
You look like a bad man

COOPRDOG
That’s because I am a bad man

DRUNK CHICK
Should I be afraid?

COOPRDOG
Not unless you sleep on your stomach

DRUNK CHICK
(Laughs): I feel like you done this before

COOPRDOG
I’ve had a few pints in my life.

The next thing I know she’s freaking out. She can’t find her ID or her credit cards. This is not a good sign. I acted like I was helping her look and I bailed.

I did some more dancing and met this petite woman. I soon discovered that my American approach didn’t work… because she was an American… from Florida.

AMERICAN CHICK
I’m not going to go home and fuck you…so if you want to maximize your time.

COOPRDOG
You know I really prefer something along the lines of “hi..how are you”

AMERICAN CHICK
I’m sorry …I’m a bitch

COOPRDOG
No one called you a bitch

AMERICAN CHICK
I just see so many American trying to use their accent to get laid.

COOPRDOG
I’m just here to make friends

All of a sudden she grabbed my hand and dragged me out on the dance floor. Seriously ladies, what good are such hard and fast principals when you fold at the first sign of resistance…why not just be the slut that you are (uh…I’m having some issues with women).

I’m watching her dance. I am watching her big ass and her plump tits bounce as she sings the wrong words off key. I’m wondering if she likes to have her neck kissed. I’m wondering if she likes it from behind. She’s saying a lot to me but I can’t hear a fucking word she says but I pretend that I do. As we continue to dance she turns around and I start to grind on her ass. For someone who’s so prissy and not down like that…she seems to know how to move her ass. Some things are the same where ever you go.

She then abruptly told me that she had to return to her friends and thanked me for the dance. What? Your pussy gets a little wet and that’s it…what the fuck!???!

Next thing I know I see the liquor babe only she’s not in uniform and she’s next to the bar doing shots with the bartender. I immediately went over there.

COOPRDOG
Oh… I see how it is

LIQUOR BABE
You weren’t around

COOPRDOG
Did you look for me

LIQUOR BABE
No

COOPRDOG
That’s fucked up

LIQUOR BABE
You have to work for the things you want

Then the bar manager came out of the back and she and him scattered; I mean what the fuck?

I did a shot with some random chick cause I don’t like to drink alone unless I’m watchin porn…and slammed down another pint. I was kind of ripped and I didn’t care.

I looked over and saw the drunk chick dancing with some dude. He’s got his hands on her ass and her tits…that’s fucking bullshit. Now if I’d have done that ….ok.. I’d be palming her ass… but that’s not how I get down. Anyway, she was my safety and I was feeling like I fucked up. Then she started yelling at the dude and pushing him and then I think she hit a bouncer cause they rushed her. Well, since I would have been in the middle of that scum I felt as if I had made the correct choice.

The liquor babe is back, but she’s talking to some 6’5” Nordic motherfucker and he has his hands around her waist. Ok, that’s not a possibility. The model chicks are long gone and now I’m just roaming around the place looking to see what I can make happen. It’s my first drunk night in London, I’m not going out like this. The next thing I know I’m standing next to the American Chick. She smiles and grabs me to come close to her and her 6 friends. Normally I’d run from that kind of shit. Women in a pack tend to be trouble (unless it’s a bachelorette party and you live in another state). I wasn’t sure what to do.. I mean this is probably not going to go my way.

Then I looked over and I saw the drunk chick. Well I don’t know how she got back into the club but she did. I walked over to her and watched her dance. She saw me looking and started to smile. I moved closer to her and started to touch her a little. She was with it. Ok, so… drunk chicks are nothing to brag about.. but a fuck is a fuck. We were doing a nice episode of Dirty Dancing and I was palming the shit out of her ass (dude.. I don’t live here).. she asked me to get her a drink.. so I did.

When I came back she was in the corner kissing some guy and he had his hand up her skirt. Apparently I’m not the only cheap motherfucker in this piece. I crushed the first pint and sipped the second. I was really starting to get fucked up. I hadn’t even thought about how I was going to get home.

I turned around and the American chick was just staring at me. She walked up to me rather quickly.

AMERICAN CHICK
So your drunk girl wants to fuck someone else?

COOPRDOG
She’s not my girl, she’s my friend and she makes it hard to be her friend when she makes stupid decision like that one.

AMERICAN CHICK
Oh, I know what you mean.

COOPRDOG
They only reason I agreed to come out was so that we could hang out, we haven’t seen each other in a while..and this is why.

Yeah, I blatantly lied and to anyone who has been watching me it was an obvious lie. But she wants to believe…so who am I do stop that?

The next thing I know I’m dancing with her and her 6 friends and then Bon Jovi comes on the speakers and the place goes Apeshit! I’m not joking. People started dancing on tables and taking their clothes off, I’d never seen anything like that…I mean it’s fucking Bon Jovi…he’s from Jersey

AMERICAN CHICK
Do you know Bon Jovi?

COOPRDOG
What the fuck are you talking about…. I went to high school in Jersey! I practically mowed the guy’s lawn in high school.

AMERICAN CHICK
So you hate him

COOPRDOG
You have no idea.

After that we were best buds I guess. She pulled me everywhere with her and I continued to drink my face off. The next thing I know I’m outside with her and her friends and a bunch of men trying to go home with them. I soon found out the she’s an RA and she’s studying over here and these “kids” are her “dorm students”. We chat a little more and then the dude start asking me questions about my accent and where I’m from and why I’m here.

COOPRDOG
I’m a filmmaker

DUDE
You mean you want to be a filmmaker

I removed a screener from my bag.

COOPRDOG
No… I am a filmmaker.

The movie changed everything. The dudes thought I was cool, the kids wanted to know if I have worked with any celebrities and the American chick is just staring at me. I answered a slew of questions and handed out another 4 screeners. She then told me that he and her friends we leaving to get some food and I was welcome to come.

What difference a film makes…. Now we’re walking up the street, there’s about 10 of us and we’re loud. After about 6 blocks and the passing of several eating places ask her what’s the deal.

AMERICAN CHICK
Well… we want to go back to our place but we have to lose these guys.

Yeah.. .when was the last time you heard some shit like that in the states? I was wondering if I was about to be asked to be the heavy…and then one of the young boys told the dudes to fuck off. There was some loud discussion and then someone hailed a taxi. She pulled me in the taxi with her 3 friends (the group spilt up) and we were off to someplace I’d never been.

Next thing I know I’m in some dorm complex that’s really a bunch of apartments and man I wished I’d have studied abroad. She asked me if I wanted to smoke a bowl and I wanted to kiss her. She explained that she didn’t have a piece and that we can’t smoke in front of the “kids” because she’s their supervisor and they won’t respect her (but she can get drunk with them and bring strange men home…what the fuck are you talking about?)

Anyway so I’m in a bathroom smoking weed dust out of a beer can/pipe and tryin’ to figure out how to get this chick naked. After about 10 min’s there’s some pounding on the door. She scrambles to open a window and turn on a fan and hide the evidence. I can’t be bothered…I’m proud to be a weed smoker.

We adjourn from the bathroom amid smiles and giggles and then she has to run across the hall for something and one of the young guys looks right at me and says…

YOUNG DUDE
Man I got buds and a pipe. You don’t have to hide in the bathroom and pretend while you smoke that bullshit shake.

It was classic. I mean they know what’s up…they knew we weren’t fucking… and they just want to blaze with me.

Well five bowl later I’m arguing about the cinema and the media and the US government and they all think I’m full of shit… they ask to see my film and I do and impromptu screening on a laptop for 6 college students. They loved it.

It was all hugs and high-fives and then I gave them all copies.

YOUNG DUDE
This is mine?

COOPRDOG
The entire cinema is yours…including that DVD.

He was perplexed and very thankful. I knew then why I was here. I knew then that I needed to talk to as many real people, as many young people as possible. I wasn’t some snake oil salesman trying to get their attention. I was the crazy motherfucker that they’d been drinking with all night and then I smoked them all under the table and gave them a copy of my movie.

Everyone was about to go to bed and I vaguely wondered if the American Chick would take me to her room and thank me proper like. But it was 5am and the all had to be up in 90 min’s. So the fucking was out (sleep when you’re dead people!) She gave me her celli (uh.. mobile number) and told me that the nearest tube station was about 4 blocks up the street.

I got back to my hotel in about 30 min’s (London is hella easy to travel around). Not a bad first night if I do say so myself.

COOPRDOG

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