Buzzkill ...

I was flying high. Dancing to the rythyms and grooves churned out by the DJs at Project (Norwich's newest and best nightclub), I was the quintessential emblem of the student abroad. The night was as young as it was alive, profound as it was exhilarating. As I spent the night in ecstatic trance, rolling with my trusty lads, in love with England, I felt no other emotion than happiness, and it had a strong buzz on me too.

Filing out of Project into the taxi, this complete night was drawing to a satisfying end. Hours spent getting fucked up and chasing women are hours well spent. It is nights like these that make the life of the stud abroad a rich one indeed. But it was all to come crashing down, when I receive a call at 11 am:

“Hello ...” groggily “ ... oh hey, you alright? In England yet? You’re where? In Norwich ... on campus?! ... ok, when? Fifteen minutes ... alright fine, whatever.” Shit.

My parents had come to visit. I roll out of my bed, throw on a t-shirt and a flannel, slide into a pair of hole-ridden jeans, slip on my trusty Birkenstocks and leave my room, ending prematurely my recovery sleep, an absolute necessity after a full-throttled lad's night.

Staggering out of my flat, I reach the uni square, and for the first time in 7 months, I saw my parents. It felt good to see them, my dad’s prolific moustache, my mom’s blonde hair. Perking up a bit, I gave hugs and warm wishes of hello.

The three of us went out for a pint of Wherry and began catching up. Unsurprisingly, we talked about England. I could tell that both of them were buzzing to be back in England, and were eagerly looking forward to their move to Norwich this summer for a second spell of two years.

On this latter subject, my mom drew a very clear line: “Luke, if you want to come back to Norwich and live with us after you graduate, you need to have a plan. You can’t just sit around on your ass.” I found this point to be very fair as well as wise, and from there I presented my ideas about getting my master’s degree in England. To this my parents were very supportive and they liked the idea a lot. There are some things that you just cannot get talking on the phone or on skype, which is probably the reason that I rarely call home.

***

After finishing our pints, I barely managed mine, we leave the pub. “Luke stand with dad in front of the pub, I want to take a picture.” With commendable restraint, I resisted raising questions such as, “What’s the bloody point?” and I obeyed diligently. And so, there I stood, forcing a smile, already.

Next. “Luke, take us to your flat, we want to see where you live.” Explaining that there was nothing of interest in my flat, besides my bed (which I would like nothing more than to be resting in) proved useless. Swallowing hard, I once again indulged the request.

We walk to my building, up the stairs and into my flat. I show them the kitchen, and then it is on to my room. I open the door, instantly revealing the (cluttered, but not messy) bachelor's pad that I call home. I scramble to put some clothes away, and I rearrange some books on my shelf to hide some alcohol bottles I have sitting there. I reason that the books are a preferable sight.

Surprisingly, there was no haranguing about my living conditions; but worse, mum wanted another picture. This I strenuously opposed, but, despite my protest, an absolutely pointless picture of me standing amidst my heap of filth was deemed necessary. I begrudgingly pose, clearly unhappy and my mom gets out her camera, again.

But wait, it gets worse. Having only acquired this camera recently, mum does not know how to work it properly, and stares and the camera, fiddling ineffectively with its buttons. An insufferable amount of time passes. She takes the picture. From the lofty highs of the life of a stud, my buzz has officially been killed, and the thousands of miles of freedom and independence I had so greatly enjoyed were turned in to three feet in a matter of seconds.

Of course I love my parents dearly, but perhaps it is best that they are not really here to see me. With their approaching move to Norwich this summer, both have business commitments and will spend most of their 10 days in Europe occupied elsewhere. So, every cloud ... LW