Nick + Emily = Goo(f?)d Times

If it looks like a duck and swims like a duck, it probably is Emily and Nick. We come to you after a successful infiltration of the King's College Pub. That's right, BOTH of us are writing this post!

After meeting Emily at the Parkside coach stop in Cambridge, the evening started off with an intruction to Hannah and bean and cabbage soup (with an emphasis on the cabbage). Emily and I decided we needed a proper night out.

So we headed to the Eagle for a stiff drink before braving the King's College pub (because technically we weren't allowed in). While Nick headed to the bar to get drinks, I went to find us a table. The only table that I could find was in a fireplace. I am not yanking your chains folks, it was fo' sho' in a fireplace. We both have the bumps on the backs of our heads to prove it.

After observing that Emily was the only woman in the place defying the rule of ordering a glass or wine or mixed drink (or at least a Shandy [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shandy]), we decided it was time to move on. After getting turned around several times, we finally found ourselves at the imposing gate of King's College. Emily finessed the mobility-student-abroad cover, getting us past the porter and into the surprisingly modern pub.

While Nick claims that I "finessed" getting past the porter, it was more of a hubbub as Nick and I both claimed that I was a member of the college. The porter bought it (SUCKER!!!!) and let us in. The pub was reminiscent of a university lounge that happened to sell liquor. Nick and I bought our drinks and took over a couch to gape at the local fauna. Man, they were totally drunk. Some guy all dressed up but with an unbuttoned shirt sat down infront of us. I decided that no, I was no longer Emily-the-BA-from-UCSC, I was Emily-semester-abroad-from-UCB-who-was-studying-modern-english-history. Simply because it meant that I belonged, my university had name recognition and as KT studies modern English history I figured that I was just foreign enough and with enough special knowledge to make the lie work perfectly. It seemed to, but then the guy was so drunk that he spilled my beer, offered to buy me a new one, toddled off and never came back.

We met our new drunken friend by observing him as he lost his balance in a tousle and landed face-first on the floor. He explained his inebriated state as part of the celebrations following his [what we would call] crew "bumping," to which we're both still unsure of the meaning. Apparently, he had gotten into a "fight-club" with a friend of his as was evidenced by the blood stain on the sleeve of his shirt. After finishing my beer and realizing that Emily's was not going to be replaced, we went in search of the loo. From searching several twisting and turning corridors, we found our selves in the uni Bop, which was a depressingly empty attempt at a club.

Nick turned the corner, took a one second look at the dance floor and laughed like it was the funniest thing on earth. I burst out laughing as well because I know exactly what an unattended uni dance with bad music looks like (Nick says that the few people attending the bop laughed sheepishly with him). We laughed all the way back into the pub and down the other hallway into the toilets. Which were fancy. There were seats at lighted mirrors in the girls room. I wanted to take up residence there, it was so comfortable. But not really because it was a semi-public toilet. I was feeling over-whelmed by then and so I convinced Nick to leave. While trying to leave King's College I encountered the door out onto the street, which was ancient and locked. The porter waiting there to let people out explained that it was locked because it was after 11. Clearly, Nick and I would appear to be outsiders if something wasn't put right, so I said in my blondest/drunk-bimbo-est voice "oh, it's after 11...?" and went through the door. We were out scot-free. I am not sure if I can get away with it again. Maybe on a friday instead of a saturday?

We laughingly stumbled our way home along the route of a 400-year-old canal to end up at Caitlin's to write this post for you. Cheer's from Cambridge!