Gathering Post - Singles' Night (These Are The Times)

[prodigalflame]

The Tavern, as it was called, brought to mind images of faded Tudor quaintness: of whitewashed exterior, black beams, windows barred with cast iron, mulled mead and a fireplace in every room.

In truth, the pub was anything but. Located in one of the gentrifying suburbs, it was a modern bulwark of concrete, iron and glass. The first two stories were the pub proper, and the next ten were apartments. The owners had called it 'The Tavern' in a display of hipster pride, as if it was the only pub that mattered. Snaking through the two levels were a series of pipes, as small-scale brewing took place on site.

It was usually a lively sort of pub, populated mostly by the fussy, the well-off, the well-educated and those that aspired to be, although situated near a tube station meant it also got a lot of randoms peering in to grab a pint. The alcohol menu was diverse, the food menu was dominated by various pulled meats and a cheese board (if anyone cared) and there were probably far too many male graduate students with neckbeards who nodded enthusiastically at each other as they discussed Kant.

Still, on Saturday night it was even more bustling than usual. People stood on the stairs, beers in hand, and chatted. Every seat was taken. The wait staff had their hands full (literally), and moved with ease and grace through the throng to deliver food to tables, and collect numbers and plates.

Tonight there would be music. Tonight there would be bands. Tonight was Singles' Night, a guarantee of no sappy love songs, no heart break, no angst. Two local bands were playing: first there would be a set from The Flamethrowers, with a mix of classic rock and pop standards, and then after a break, there would be an electro-synth duo to allow for dancing well past midnight.

So at about 9pm, patrons were treated to the sight of the first band tuning up. There wasn't really a performance space, so much as a corner on the ground floor of the pub that was currently unoccupied by tables. It was a four-piece band: some shaggy-haired cross between hobo and hipster on rhythm guitar and vocals, a slightly older british caribbean guy in glasses with goatee on double bass, a short-haired woman in her mid-20s on percussion and vocals and a tendency to beat the ever-living fuck out of the drum set, and another woman, more long-haired and willowy, on keyboards and vocals. Mr Hobo-Hipster of the shaggy hair and blond tips sang lead most of the time, but he gave it up for each of the women through their eleven song set, and there were duets. The keyboard was set to produce a more honky-tonk piano sound, and combined with the double bass, most of the covers had a dirty feel to them, all loose chords and guitar slaps. Clearly they'd played together for long enough to have a good feel for each other, which just added to the looseness, the occasional digression or ad hoc solo.

And Mr Hobo-Hipster didn't so much as introduce the band members as say "Hey. We're the Flamethrowers" and then let his guitar speak for itself as they launched into a funked-up version of Money. His voice was a little rough, almost a growl, and his stage presence was contained but not muted. Even without posturing, John made it very clear that he was the driving force behind the band: he didn't preen or strut, he didn't need to, and only the hint of a smirk could be seen around his eyes. There was no grinning, not now: now he was controlled and contained and came off a little bit contemptuous of having to perform. He sang, sure, and he played, and played pretty well, but his focus were the frets of his guitar, the lyrics of the songs. That night, he was sleek and dangerous and full of pride. That night, he had no reasons to smile or grin or show how happy he was: he'd lost those along the way. He was pared back to his disdainful core. Overall, the band was good but not great, and with John being Intense, the performance probably came off somewhere between 'bluesy rock band' and 'satanic death cult'.

Grooving through the set-list for roughly 45 minutes, the Flamethrowers played a series of stripped-back, funked-up covers. Rock the Casbah. a slowed-down take on Time after Time. Versions of Dangerous and Sweet Dreams (are made of this) that were dominated by the keyboards and a sparse double bass. Everybody Wants to Rule the World. John's wry grin came out for a guitar driven, lazy run on Carole King's "It's Too Late", before he paused to finally introduce the band, have some water, and explain that the point was to avoid the melancholic and romantic: to not make anyone feel bad for being single.

Four more songs, and they then closed with Mama Told Me Not To Come, having meandered their way past some INXS, Living End and Lynyrd Skynyrd.

In the end, John thanked the band (again), thanked everyone for showing up, and hoped they passed the audition. As a nicety, he promised there would now be some 'music you can dance to' after a little break, and then disappeared to pack up his guitar and amp and find himself a drink and a quiet corner.

The night went on without him, and that was just fine.

[OOC: Saturday night at an upmarket pub and destination of note. Feel free to show up before, during or after the band. Complain about the noise, the locally brewed artisan beer, the hipster food, the even more hipster band, or just dance the night away.]

Comments

[utterly_mysterious]

Now, that was interesting. Perhaps her new friend wasn't a drinker. Or perhaps he just knew his limits. Either way, Angelique made no outward comment on it, but covered Akeem's fruit juice and followed it up with a sangria punch for herself. The drinks came out looking rather similar.

"Practically everyone here is too self-conscious to think about manners," Angelique told him as she passed him his glass. "But you're genuine. It sticks out, you know, like you're walking about with a pearly shine on you."

[leloupnoir]

Akeem finished his beer as the bartender got their drinks, leaving the empty pint on the counter. There was a small smile on his lips as Angelique spoke. "You've a way with words, haven't you, Angelique."

It was quite an image. Not one he was convinced fit, but perception was everything. He would much rather focus on form than content, when it came to a beautiful woman complimenting him.

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique chuckled, her dark eyes gleaming at the compliment. "Some would say that my way with words is more like a torrent. I can go on, and if you don't hush me now and then, I will. You might be a man of few words, hm? But I'd lay a wager that the words you do speak are brilliant."

[leloupnoir]

"Neither too few, nor too many, or so I hope," Akeem answered, amused and a lot more at ease with his words being complimented than himself.

[utterly_mysterious]

"All of quality," Angelique assured him. Their drinks arrived and she slid Akeem's to him with a smile laced with mischief. "Which means, naturally, that you simply must tell me all about yourself, why you're here, and who you are."

[leloupnoir]

"Must I," Akeem echoed, amused by the phrasing. "Well. I'm a Pisces, or a Tiger, if we're going Chinese. I never believed in Santa Claus, but for some reason, I was convinced the Tooth Fairy was real until an absurdly late age. I'm a widower, a bookshop owner, and I teach part time. And I'm here because one of my students was playing."

[utterly_mysterious]

"Are you quite sure you're still a Pisces?" Angelique inquired. "They discovered a new sign, or something like, and now everyone's in a lather about it." Some of her expressions were a touch archaic; she thought she might be forgiven, being attached to the theater as she was. "I never understood it, myself, but a number of my friends have been considering the meaning of their lives all over again with this new development."

[leloupnoir]

"Ah, yes, that's crept up again, has it," Akeem acknowledged the news with a smile. "Are they still going on about Ophiuchus? I thought we'd laid that to rest a few years ago."

[utterly_mysterious]

"That's the one," Angelique agreed, tilting her head with interest. "What, you mean this isn't new? All the reports make it sound like it's a revelation."

As was typical of rather young people, Angelique's friends hadn't the slightest glimmer of an idea that anyone might have considered this question before. What of any import had happened prior to their entrance into adulthood, after all?

[leloupnoir]

"Ophicius has been in the zodiac for a long time," Akeem confirmed. "It seems as if would-be astrologists rediscover that fact with amazing regularity."

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique laughed, surprised but deeply amused by this turn of events. "So I'm fully justified in my position that it's entirely bunk, aren't I?"

[leloupnoir]

"I'd ask whether you mean astrology as a whole, or this 'latest' development, but either way, the answer is yes," Akeem confirmed.

[utterly_mysterious]

"So pleased to have that cleared up," Angelique chuckled, fluttering one hand as though to wave the subject away. "On to something more interesting. You said you own a bookshop? Any recommendations?"

[leloupnoir]

"Many," Akeem answered honestly. "What are you in the mood for these days?"

[utterly_mysterious]

"Love stories are my favorite," Angelique confessed with some enthusiasm. "Particularly unusual ones. Boy-meets-girl and a wedding at the end -- quite dull. I like a bit of mystery and spice to my love stories."

[leloupnoir]

"Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?" Akeem offered. "Or less supernatural spice?"

[utterly_mysterious]

"Supernatural is absolutely acceptable," Angelique assured him. "I don't think I've read that one. No, wait... isn't it a comedy?"

[leloupnoir]

"It's Jane Austen and zombies," Akeem pointed out with a small smile. "I'd definitely call it a parody."

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique giggled with a rather reproving look over the edge of her glass. "I ask you for a love story, and you give me a comedy about the undead. Are you trying to tell me something, Akeem? About your opinion of love?"

[leloupnoir]

"You asked me for unusual love stories," Akeem chided her softly, while her question about his opinion of love had him subconsciously toy with the wedding band he still wore. "I can't think of anything much more unusual than that," he pointed out playfully, reaching for his glass to take a drink.

[utterly_mysterious]

"I take your point," Angelique laughed. She'd noticed the ring a few minutes previous, providing further evidence that he wasn't the sort who would try to take her home. That made her that much more comfortable with him, really. "So where shall I come to acquire a copy of this unusual love story?"

[leloupnoir]

Akeem wasn't certain that it was the book for her, but if she came by the shop, he was certain that he could find something better for her. "Wait, I'm sure I've got a card or two," he stated, pulling out a wallet and finding a card for the Clamour of Caws, and handing out to her. "Here. My opening hours sometimes change depending on the classes I teach, but I always update the shop's Facebook page." Which, of course, was indicated on the card.

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique took the card in silver-manicured fingers, and gave it a quick read so she would remember before tucking it into her cat-shaped handbag. "If your shop is even half as delightful as its proprietor, then I can't wait to visit. You've earned yourself one more customer."

[leloupnoir]

"And one shameless provider of compliments, it seems," Akeem noted, amused and not nearly as awkward about it as he had been earlier. It seemed as if it were her way, rather than anything else that had more to do with him, and that made it something potentially endearing, rather than slightly embarrassing.

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique's eyes danced just as her smile did. "I don't see why I should have any shame about telling people when they're delightful. I promise you, I tell people just as plainly when they're unbearable. You'll always know where you stand with me."