A Little Nerd Music

Yesterday, I went alone to see 'I am Love' at our new Phoenix Square digital media centre (or cinema). I thought it was incredible; the filming was fabulous and caught the oppressive, formality of a wealthy Italian family with great authenticity. Much of the first fifteen minutes or so focused on the house, as if the family were just bit players. The stilted mausoleum of the palazzio was contrasted with the sensual fecundity of the garden/farm in the mountains, where the affair happens.
Afterwards the place was buzzing, so I decided to stick around for a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine. The next film started at eight, so I was soon left alone, the sole customer. Around me, a band were setting up for a gig. I thought I'd stay a bit longer and maybe hear some of the music and the musicians themselves seemed worth a bit of scrutiny. There was a tall one with a ponytail. So far so good. But what was this? A boy of about seventeen assembled a drumkit and then two guys who could have been Ph.D students studying physics, set up three AppleMac laptops. It was like Kraftwerk but scruffier: check shirts over t-shirts that had seen better days and chins struggling to establish a healthy beard. I wasn't going to stay and listen to laptops. I paid my bill and left.

Talk to the Post

It's best to draw a veil over the early part of the evening but by nine o' clock, ruffled feathers soothed, we were ready to leave the restaurant. One of our party of three middle-aged ladies about town was uncertain where she'd parked her car. After twenty questions, we guessed it was in the Highcross Rooftop car park and insisted on walking there with her. Confused and in denial about the exact meaning of the gate across the entrance, we turned back to try and find our way into the car park from the mall. The doors were locked. We rattled them but they remained locked. Did you know the Highcross closes at 8.30 pm? I thought these places never closed. Well, we know now.
Still convinced that there must be a solution, we walked right around the outside of the Highcross (a long way if you're used to walking through it) and into the service yard for Debenhams, where we could see the exit ramp for the Rooftop car park, tantalisingly out of reach. I was convinced there must be a way up.
A voice boomed out of the darkness, 'Can I help you?' We stopped and turned, mouths open. No one was there. The voice came again, 'Can I help you?', with the resonance of Gandalf except with a Leicester accent. The voice seemed to come from a yellow post that supported the barrier to the service yard.
I had no option but to speak to the post. 'Yes, it could help us. My friend's car was in the car park. Could she have it back now please?'
'Has she got a sleeping bag?' the post quipped. I had to explain, sotto voce, that this wasn't the best time for jokes.
I will now share something with you that only a few hand-picked others know: there is a secret way into the Highcross Rooftop car park after it's closed. You can collect your car AND drive out. We got this nugget from the yellow post, once it had realised that murder was a definite possibility. First, you have to find the Hand Made Burger Company (no mean feat) and beside it there is (no, we didn't believe it either) a little, grey door. Through this door there is a long shiny, empty corridor and at the end of the corridor there are lifts, which eerily and anonymously whisk you up to the car park. It wasn't over for us; my friend had forgotten where exactly her car was . It was creepy, searching the deserted levels, trying to remember the layout and knowing that we were almost certainly being followed on security cameras. The evening finally ended. We found her car amongst others, similarly abandoned, on the second level outside the entrance to Debenhams. We all returned safely home to our beds but this isn't 2009, the date is 1984.

Coffee Shop Etiquette (2)

To continue the theme...what's the correct way to ask for the coffee? Do you pronounce the words like macchiato, talle or massimo correctly to show off that you're a well-travelled and educated person or do you act like a little Englander and huffily ask for 'small, medium, large.' Or here in Leicester, should we ask for our coffee in a 'Lestah' accent... 'that's a grandeh for me' ... even if we're in Costa or Starbucks. In Marks and Spencer they helpfully line up the cup sizes for those of us who can't read the menus on the wall, so pointing is quite acceptable (well done to M&S for the little biscuits and sensible cup sizes).
Coffee in buckets is definitely not European. In Spain and Italy cappuccino is served in an ordinary cup and always with chilled water. The first coffee shop in Leicester to serve real European coffee will become a regular with me. So far, Cafe Mbriki makes the best coffee. In too many places the coffee is burnt.When did sixth formers become 'baristas'?
Here's a tip for Starbucks. You can ask for a spoon. Those wooden sticks bring back memories of 1950's ice lollies. It's horrible the way your tongue sticks to the wood. As an experience it's up there with scraping nails down a (1950's) blackboard.Why would anyone subject their customers to this?