Memoirs Are So Yesterday: Itinerary for a 17 year old in Liverpool.

This from the new blog I’m a part of called Memoirs Are So Yesterday, started by my old pal Jen Wittes. Lots of spectacular writing about how much better our nostalgia is then yours and oh yes, me! This my first memoir attempt.

10:15 am Get up.

10:16 am Be the last one up.

10:17am Marvel in your host’s super human abilities to function on 5 hours of sleep, since in high school, you would routinely sleep for 11-13 hours on a non sports related weekend. Note that this will be good training for college.

10:30 am Eat breakfast. Eat lots of meat. Don’t mind you missed the eggs, you’ve hated eggs since you were a baby and sausage and bacon will do just fine.

10:36am Have your Brother, who you share a inflatable mattress with, tell you that you speak Spanish in your sleep. Fluently. Which is amazing considering you floated through six years of the subject and thinking you had a B+, just two and half months ago, you didn’t have to take the final, but you actually had a B and then you failed the final and tossed your final report card in the sewer after graduation.

10:40 am Smile that your Mother never saw that report. Realising as you write this, that your Brother is a Spanish teacher and Mom is the secretary to the Principal at said high school and can just look up your grades from 15 years ago any time she wants. Know she must know by now.

11:00 am Read the tabloid. Try not to stare at naked woman on Page three everyday, even though you are still 3 weeks shy of legally buying porn in your own country. Your Mom isn’t there, but Fran is. And her family. And she’s the closest thing anyone could have to a second Mom. Consider her one of the 3 people at your wedding that were related to you.

11:30 am Watch cricket. Not just club cricket either. Test cricket. Wonder why any sport should take four days. Still be awed by Brian Lara. Take a picture with him at Madame Tousseau’s. Him and Telly Savalas with your tongue in his ear.

12 pm Go to the Pub.

12:30 pm Get your first buzz. Drink beer that’s as harsh as possible. Feel like a man. Fuck Budweiser or the silver bullet, you’re drinking bitter. Tetley’s Bitter. Drink Bud Ice in college.

12:48pm Steal bar towels and coasters. Do this for the remainder of your trip. Have future self ridicule 17 year old self for thinking stealing promotional garbage was such a score.

12:35 pm Hear “I’ve Never Known a Girl Like You Before” by Edwin Collins in the pub. Learn that boy bands like Take That are currently taking over Britain about 3 years before boy bands would take over the states.

1:30 pm Go to the betting shop.

1:40 pm Make your first bet. Not including winning the WrestleMania 4 pool in forth grade (you had Randy Savage AND Hulk Hogan) or the continuously losing every Super Bowl Sunday School bet with Chris Richardson through the late 80’s. Bet on Jean Alessi and his Ferrari. Bet on Davis Love III and his Titleist.

1:45 pm Do not bet on Michael Shumacher. Boring. Do not bet on John Daly even though you think it would be funny at the time only to see a few days later that he actually DOES win the British Open and makes a fool of you. Become a better sports better. Only take suckers bets. Pray on people’s hometown pride.

2:00 pm Go back to pub.

2:15 pm Watch the sport that’s been bet on.

3:30 pm Return to betting shop. Collect winnings. In a group, that includes upwards of 7 to 8 people every day someone is bound to win a bet and that person will….

3:45 pm Go back to pub spend winner’s winnings. Everyone wins.

4:00 pm Teach John Ryder the word, “Dork.” Watch Fran’s brother in law revel in the word “Doarrrrrrk” the rest of the trip which he has taken off from his job at the Ford plant just to haul the group of us around the English countryside to London, to Llangllen, to Mersyside, to Blackpool.

4:30pm Go home for tea.

4:55pm Fall in love with chip shops. Love Curry. Not red curry or thai curry but thick, viscus, nuclear yellow Indian curry. That comes over chips and chicken and whatever you want. Eat it everyday you can. Search for that curry for a decade. Find it on some show on the Food Network that your Mom watched “just over the Brooklyn Bridge.” Love it all over again.

5:05pm That and meat pasties.

6:00 pm Out with Nicolai and sometimes Jamie. Drive fast. Drive down two way streets meant for one car. Ignore Strawberry Fields and that club the Beatles played in first.

6:10 pm Listen to “I’ve Never Known A Girl Like You Before” in the car.

6:30 pm Play cricket. At least the wiffleball equivolent. In the back of a school yard whose fence you have to scale. Get good. Get better. Win on the last day you’re in England. Get a cricket bat for Christmas in your mid 20’s. Consider that the best present your wife ever got you.

7:00 pm Go back to the pub. Dress up a bit. Get advice from Stephanie. Feel like you look good. Burn all evidence in the future. You looked like an asshole.

7:30 pm Drink with the fam. Drink with your brother. He’s only 14. Never get carded.

8:30 pm Sing songs. Sing with the fam. Sing in the pub. Sing with people you’ve never met and will almost never see again. Sing Lean On Me like you were Bill Withers. Realize who that is in 7 years. Admire this moment.

9:00 pm Go out with “the kids.” None of whom are younger then you.

10:00 pm Get drunk for the first time.

11:00 pm Then really drunk. You’ve rarely paid for a round the whole trip. Buy a round. And another.

1:00 am Become a wallflower. Hear “I’ve Never Known A Girl Like You Before.” And never know any of the girls partying in front of you. Drunk girls with accents. Have future you slap 17 year old you in the mouth.

3:55 am Black out for the first time.

4:00 am There was a cab. Those fancy black ones.

4:15 am And more chips and curry.

5:00 am Land in bed.

5:30 am Speak Spanish fluently.


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