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9 October, 2007 / Erik

Big Hands

So many nights either began or ended with one of these two buildings. In the distance, is Big Hands (one is requires to make jazz hands when saying the name of this establishment). It was, for all intents, the local of my writing class in Manchester. Some nights would begin close to campus, but Big Hands one us over with an impressive juke box that featured the Pixies and Lou Reed. It was almost like a Satellite Show selection of discs. The drink was … well, memory does not serve me well. Like many other establishments, it began to charge a cover after midnight, so we had to begin there early-ish. Some nights, though, this was just base camp as we’d end up down the road. Only once did we end up further up. If the night ended up a pubcrawl, I’d find myself at Abdul’s for a late night kebab. I lived only a foot short footsteps from both these places, so kebab was always seconds away. At first, I hated the vile things, but grew to love them as they took away some of the cold and unpleasant drunkenness of a 3am walk. There was even a week or two where kebab was rational to a sane mind tired of tuna and sandwiches from other nearby eateries. Get a bunch of writers together and these are the things that seem to matter: drink and kebab. At least some things are universal.


One Comment

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  1. David S / Oct 10 2007 1:08 pm

    That either means that I am a writer or you actually became a Brit for a few months there. Kebabs and beer/scrumpy/whisky are the two main food groups. If you went for lager or cider then sorry, you didn’t quite reach the ranks of quintessentially British.

    I am getting mildly homesick if I don’t manage to dispel the sweet memories of chips and curry sauce professional help might be required.

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