This is part review and part diary, because some stories just have to be told.
My boyfriend and I excitedly visited TGI Friday’s, a favourite of ours, down near Southampton Central Station. However, upon arrival, some bright spark had decided to hold a birthday there and we were greeted with a cheerful 50 minute wait. My boyfriend looked sceptical, but I was adamant; I hadn’t walked there in sheer tights freezing my backside off to go back to Halls empty-bellied.
So, like the very mature pair that we are, we filled the time by playing games such as thumb wars and rock paper scissors. When those got old, we tried out Ultimate Ninja Destruction; for those of you unfamiliar with the game, it’s not a good one to play in a tightly packed bar area, like we did. It involves holding your hands as if in prayer position, and taking it in turns to try and karate-chop each other’s hands. I clouted a large lady in the skull on her way down the stairs behind me, and my boyfriend nearly took out a small child. However, he then made my evening by dodging and punching himself in the family jewels, much to my and quite a few onlookers amusement.
Deciding for his benefit that it was a stupid game, we moved onto Sticks. In Sticks, you wind your fingers together as if pretending to have a pistol, and whack your opponent’s similarly protruding fingers to try and dislodge them. If you succeed, they would then fold those fingers down and stick out the ones below in a pistol position, and so on until you run out of fingers. This proved to be our best stupid idea, as I slit open his ring finger with a nail and he broke my index finger.
This might’ve been a good time to call it quits and go home (or to A&E) but our near-hour wait was almost up and we decided to persevere for the food we’d waited so painfully for. We were put beside the door and therefore shivered throughout our meal; mine didn’t come with any cheese and his ribs were cold. I, however, was past caring by this point and inhaled my meal, waving my fork around like Edward Scissorhands with a useless index finger, whereas he got his re-heated. In compensation for the food travesty, the management gave us the biggest free cocktails I’ve ever seen. Well, when I say cocktails, they were essentially 2-pint tubs of ice-cream with a bit of vodka at the bottom, but we weren’t going to say no.
This predictably also proved to be a mistake as we both finished them with the biggest gut-aches in the world. It isn’t often food defeats me, and I was less than graceful about it. We crawled out of TGI’s on our agonisingly swollen bellies and fell comatose on returning to Halls. But you know what?
It was the most fun we’d had in a bloody long time.