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Goth Night at Abart |
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I went to Zürich for the weekend to look at accommodation.
On my second night there I found myself in a dingy bar
with an irishman, pierced like a pincushion, talking about mythology and politics
(as usual).
He introduced himself as Graham, and after a couple of VBs, he invited me to 'Abart'
- the bar where he usually works.
At about 11pm, after a short unticketed ride on the tram, we arrived at Abart,
and found that it was Goth Night.
It sounds good to me, I'm wearing all black anyway,
and although I haven't shaved my head for a few days,
I like Bauhaus as much as the next guy. We short-cut the queue, since Graham was staff, and entered the gloomy club to the sound of a throbbing beat. Inside, men in black skirts and women with makeup tears danced under plastic skeletons and projected engravings of capering bones. I dribbled, because when Swiss girls go goth, that's what you do. These heartachingly sweet girls in black with their sullen lips and sad eyes were everywhere I looked.
We gawked at the freaks for a bit, had a beer, I failed to chat up a girl with a klingon tattoo,
and then we went downstairs.
There I listened to Graham and one of his workmates talk about how these goths had it all wrong;
if only they listened to a bit more death metal, they'd be ok.
I told a couple of crude jokes, and they passed a J around.
Then I sat down and looked at the wall, which was black.Later, we went upstairs once more, and my Irish friend introduced me to one of the goth girls. She was wearing a black veil and satin gown and looked good enough to make a dead man stand up and take notice. "This is Paul." Graham said. "Hi." she said, and smiled like she was peering at the moon. "Guess how many donuts I can fit on my dick?" I asked loudly. We observed a moments silence. "He's Australian." Graham explained, making me feel a bit like Mick Dundee. She looked at me a bit oddly after that, so I left. I didn't have much success looking at accommodation that weekend. I did manage to see the inside of a German nurse's apartment, but that's another story. |
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