But who is running the 24 hour garage?

rock shot © Pablo... awesome what!

So Metallica then eh? Those were a fun couple of nights at work as my dainty little restaurant became nothing more than and extended mosh pit in the hours before the gig started. The place was awash with stone washed denim, new Metallica T-shirts, old ripped Metallica t-shirts, old ripped men and what looked like newly purchased and roughed up leather jackets. Good times. You have to wonder who was manning the 24 hour garages and Spar shops round the country if all the heavy metal fans were in Belfast. Oh my did the town creak under the not inconsiderable weight of chaps in Hi-Tops with country accents. The last time Belfast had to deal with this many people from Larne and other provincial hick towns was during the Ulster Says No rally at city hall in the mid 80's.

That said the best table I had on Tuesday night weren't even from here, they were Hungarian. Obviously. I wasn't sure if they were going to Metallica or not. Hungarians, well the ones that I have met that is, tend to look like heavy metal fans most of the time anyway. But they were so excited it was obvious they were going. So I struck up a conversation with them...

"Going to see Metallica then lads?"

Mullet man number 0ne just stared at me for a bit and then at his friend the originally named Mullet man number two. Non-mullet man number three never spoke but did laugh a lot.

"Yesh yesh we go see Metallica!" and then he made the rock sign. It was hard not to laugh.

"I cans not believe it....Metallica...in the places that I am in...a woo hooooo." [more rock signs]

I was tittering behind my order pad. "Soooo you're excited then?"

"Excited? Oh my god yesh, yesh we are excited. Eeets Metallica! Here! In Belfasht! Fucking awesome man." I nearly lost it when he tried an American accent for the awesome bit.

"First time then I take it?"I'm not sure he got what I was asking as he replied with another, "Fucking aweshome man, yeah....James Hetfield" and followed this up with a bit of air guitar. Nice.

I persisted although I'm not sure why. "I said, have you see them before?"

"Oh sorry, my English is not how you say one hundred percent perfect yet. Can you repeat for me?"

Filled with regret and conscious that we were getting slammed I asked again.

"Ah yesh this is all out first times to see Metallica...Peter gots us the tickets with his girlfriend's Visas card." Peter looked like the cat that hat got the Metallica flavoured cream and smiled broadly as one of his chums patted him on the back.

"Oh I am so sorry...", says Mullet man number one, "....this is Peter, I am also Peter and he is Moric." They all took it in turns to stand up and shake my hand. This was all quite lovely and on any other Tuesday night I would have loved it. But from the corner of my eye I could Waiter Chum the Small's eyes burrowing into me, as in, 'get a fucking move on!' as the gathered hungry and hairy masses ordered multiple Jack and cokes and pints of beer flavoured beer. '

Anyhoo, the lads calmed down, for about ten minutes and for the rest of their meal they kept breaking into impromptu air guitar solos and raising rock signs. Truly a great bunch of lads.

But not everybody agreed.

The next table over for example. They were less than amused. And brought it up after the lads had gone. Which is really classy and brave.

"I take they were going to see Metallica then?", says the fat angry looking lad with the ginger beard. Nice.

"Yeah, do you think they were excited much?" replies I.

"Hungarians were they?", continues yer man taking no notice of me.

"Yeah. They work in a factory somewhere. Really chuffed about seeing Metallica. Said they wouldn't get this opportunity at home. Good guys."

But he didn't agree and instead pulled a big sulky face and mumbled, "Bloody Hungarians...coming over here taking our Metallica tickets."

Heh, asshole. Bitter asshole at that.

Metallica fans, the ones with tickets are a great bunch of lads who tip like rock stars.

Nice.