As Hell's Bells had the audacity to have a birthday on a Monday, we celebrated this wonderful occasion by going to see a jazz band rather than doing tequila shots in a dodgy night club until dawn. We are officially old.
Seeing that I missed out on Flatmate's birthday due to dying from the flu, I was happy someone else arranged an outing at Ronnie Scoot's so I wouldn't have to be one of the weirdo's going to jazz clubs by themselves drinking pretentious chiantis. I fear being one of those people as much as they fear being caught drinking a pint of Fosters at an old man's pub.
As it turns out, this was a rather low key and chilled out for a jazz club. Which is a great thing, seeing as I seem to lack the ability to part take in deep, meaningful conversations about the inspiration behind a bridge of a song, that isn't a bridge seeing as jazz music doesn't even have choruses. I still don't know when I'm suppose to clap as there is no way to identify the end or beginning of a jazz song. At Ronnie Scott's, at least I didn't have to discuss the original inspiration behind Blue River with a guy in a beret.
You would think that after 29 years on the planet and 13 years of friendship Hell's Bells would answer the question of 'what are you drinking' with something other than 'I'm fine for now thanks'. I therefore made it my mission to keep a full glass of alcohol with a side of juice in front of her at all times. Because that's what real friends do.
If only it didn't take absolute ages to get a drink. Let's face it, jazz clubs on a Monday night aren't busy, so to have to wait 20 odd minutes for a vodka soda does not make me want to bring on my jazz hands, nor does it assist me in helping Hell's Bells forget that 30 is lurking around the corner. I didn't even need them to put ice in it!
I also learned the hard way that jazz clubs do not carry sparklers, in my attempt to get Helen a birthday cake replacement. You can however always set a lemon on fire and decide it's close enough. And Helen seemed to enjoy her Mai Tai cake more than any other cake we could have served her.
Of course no birthday is complete without a jazzy version of Happy Birthday. Such a great thing a jazz singer, plus band was at hand. I am also fairly sure you're not allowed to kill people on your birthday, which is why we are all here today.
To sum it up, an entire night of jazz and slow coming cocktails - not my cup of tea. Celebrating my dearest Hell's Bells existence by setting fire to things - much more my cup of tea.
Happy Birthday Hell's Bells!
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| The Birthday Girl and her Mai Tai Cake |
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