Walk in the rain

10.01pm. I had a nice evening by myself, with a couple of San Miguel cans, playing some very fine tunes on my laptop to no-one but myself. But then I started to feel a little pang of regret for not agreeing to go along to the karaoke.

With a dim memory of it being in Collingwood (the college next to Grey), and appreciative of how warm it is tonight, I donned a pair of shorts, flip-flops and a T-shirt. Stepped outside Elvet (my accommodation block) to be greeted by persistent rain.

It was a 50/50 thang; do I turn back, do I press on? I was brave and pressed on. Getting damper by the minute I vaulted the steps from Elvet up to Holgate House, walked along the path past Holgate House (where I have seen many geology students walking in the opposite direction). This lead me into a car park. I persisted, and after treading down some steps, with squelchy flip-flops, I found myself in the eliptical courtyard in front of Collingwood's main building.

I walked in, down some stairs, and found myself in a moderately large bar, the Redwood Arms. I wonder if this was named for John Redwood? Given that Grey was going to be called Cromwell College at one point, Durham has form for expressing its sense of civil disobedience!

Interestingly, the Collingwood College website reveals that the Collingwood bar employs only Collingwood students. Seems reasonable.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a small area, a break-out area I want to call it. "Andy, are you cheating again?" said a stocky lady to one of three guys who were playing a board game which I think may have been Monopoly.

I found my way into the Collingwood bar, whose press doesn't really do it justice. The red-headed barman struck up a conversation with me. It turns out he is a Collingwood graduate, and now works in the bar full-time. He pointed to the other barman, in a shirt and black trousers, with an immaculate arse, and said "that's Josh, he's the bar manager."

I looked over at him, looked back to my barman with an even face, who said, "he's cute, I know." There was a beat. "Everyone says that."

Josh.

Another beat. I felt a pang of regret that the redhead wasn't especially good looking -- to me -- so that I could immediately have unsheathed a sword and defended someone's honour. Yep Josh was good looking, clearly. Everyone says so. But my barman certainly wasn't offensive looking, and he had nothing to be ashamed of.

It was quickly apparent to my barman that I was a Grey student, I didn't bother to correct him that I was merely a one-week resident. I asked for directions to the karaoke, he told me, but to be honest, it was loud in there. There was a right and a left involved, but I didn't really hear properly; I wasn't so intent on going that I might demand a replay of his directions, and I felt a little embarrassed at not having heard him properly the first time.

I watched people for a while, made a mental note that although the names and faces are different over here, the dynamics are identical, drank up, and left.