It was my first weekend night out on the town and I knew I was in store for a good one when I looked up the place my Harvard friends told me to meet them at. The Book Club:
Bringing together wit, wisdom and enough food and drink to see you through from early breakfast to a nightcap at last orders at the bar, The Book Club offers a cultural revolution to the East End’s social scene. The Book Club fuses lively, creative events and late night drinking seven days a week with an alternative menu of brain-teasing and mind-expanding thought for food in the form of workshops, talks, cultural showcases, parties, ping pong, pool and the best in new music.
Typical Harvard, typical…
The only challenge was getting there. Trying to limit my transfers because I hate the triple transfer, I got off a few stops earlier, which lent itself to a bit of a walk. Fine, it was nice out, not raining, would be fun to explore this part of the city a bit more from aboveground. Three wrong turns later and I saw a neon lit sign and a long line with fun music oozing through the window cracks. Unfortunately I couldn’t really tell what the sign said, need to get my eyes checked I guess, but I didn’t think this place was my final destination. I kept walking a little bit and finally asked a stranger if they knew how to get to The Book Club. He laughed in my face and said it’s right behind me, directing me back to the neon oasis. I gave in and went back, thinking maybe my friends were inside at the bar and not waiting outside for me like they said they would be. I paid my cover, and bee lined it for the bathroom, sending a quick “I’m here” text to the people I was meeting. Once my bladder was emptied and we went through the charade of see-saw texts saying I’m standing near x, or meet me at y, and after I had covered every inch of the place, I decided there was no way we were in the same bar.
Marching straight up to the bouncer I say, “Excuse me is this the book club?” Long pause, puzzled look…”No, never heard of it.”
Out the door I went, straight to the nearest taxi stand and I was off, only to have him drive me around the corner to the real Book Club. See map.
Moral of the story, my phone’s gps is the worst, and if something doesn’t appear to be what you’re looking for, most likely it’s not. For a visual…
The Book Club vs. The Hoxton Queen
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| This is where I was trying to go... |
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| This was where I went originally...it looked very different in the nighttime!! |
I eventually figured it out, have no fear.
English word of the day: Advice slip = receipt. Here I was trying to take out money at the "cash machine" to pay my nice taxi driver for bringing me around the block and I get to a screen that mockingly asks if I want an advice slip. Hell, I could have used some advice BEFORE I went into some sketchy bar hoping to find friends...but thanks for offering.
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