Pickle factory @twylaliden

By Twyla Liden 


I went there on a night my body was telling me no, my mind was saying absolutely not but my roommate force fed me beer.
It was a £14 ticket I’d already paid for.
Might as well do it.

With plenty of beer in my belly, we headed over. Hedda, her Norwegian boyfriend I can’t understand a word from and me.

I’m no virgin to the place. Last time I visited it was midday and I had never heard the type of music that you feel rather than hear.

I kept feeling a forceful but loving nudge from my dear friend reminding me that it’s time to drink Twyla.

Don’t fall asleep Twyla.
This is your weekend Twyla.
Enjoy it Twyla.
I did.
So I’m single, my roommate and her boyfriend are obviously not.
Their self-appointed mission for the night was to find me a man.
No man was found.
For a place called ’The Pickle Factory’ there sure was a shortage of dem pickles.

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