I had to go to do I gig I didn’t really fancy doing tonight.
After this I was quite possibly going to go out.
The gig wans’t great. I wasn’t sure whether I was in the mood to go out.
So I got on the bus to go home.
A man in cycling shorts, a mask and a feather boa got on, it’s halloween saturday, quite obviously he’s going to some party. Fair play to him, I sat and read my book.
Then some scaary twats got on, I have an aversion to scary twats, I pulled my hat down over my face, hoping the hat would be enough to put off the twats.
They didn’t see me, they saw Halloween man though. One of them approached him and said “What the fuck, get off the fucking bus.”
The Halloween man said no, I hoped he had spooky powers and wasn’t just dressed up in cycling shorts, a mask and a feather boa.
“Get the fuck off my fucking bus.” Oh christ, this was going to be nasty, Ken Livingstone owns all the buses, and this wasn’t him – he had no moustache… hang on, nor does ken now… get off the bus, for my sake. If there’s a fight then I’ll panic, I whisper under my breath.
He takes heed and departs. The man cheers and gets the bus to cheer. People are drunk, they do.
The man has been humilated, but not assaulted, I think he should consider himself lucky and not go out dressed in cycling shorts, a mask and a feather boa in future.
The scary twats sit down near the front of the bus, I am near the back. Survival instinct tells me to get off the bus, not wanting to get wet in the rain instinct overrides this.
Some more drunkens get on. These are not twats, but teenage Germans, they are very drunk and very loud.
In my experience mixing scary twats with drunken germans isn’t a good idea. I want to get off, but now am slightly trapped amongst the german gang, they are all laughing, climbing over each other and being loud. I put my book away and stare steadfastly out of the window.
They get loudly, I notice that the scary twats have noticed them. The bus is now full and there are a lot of people between scary twats and drunken germans, but I am scared enough. I run off the bus at Euston and start to walk home, the bus takes an ages to catch up with me and germans nor twats are on it. Maybe I got off just in time.
I am about to pop into Tesco’s on the way home, but there are more scarys. So I vow to stay loyal to my nectar points and go to Sainsbury’s. They shut at midnight, I have plenty of time.
I get there, they shut at ten, I have no time, less than that… they are shut.
I have little money and no food in flat.
I’m hungry.
I go home, I realise that by stealing some bread off of my flatmate I can have beans on toast. I often ifnd that eating beans on toast at eleven pm doesn’t put you in the mood to go out. I decide to watch a pay-per-view film on cable. I choose “The Life Aquatic”. It next starts at 12:10, by now it is midnight. Perfect.
It won’t let me buy it.
I guess it must be too close to the start time, I go for the 1.10am one, I have some things to do and food to eat beforehand. It lets me do this.
I make my beans on toast, I sprinkle some salt on, only the salt thing has the big hole not the sprinkle hole open. So actually I pour more than my 6g allowance all over my beans.
but this is all the food I have.
I eat it
I am thirsty.
I sit and patiently wait for 1.10 am. The cable box doesn’t find the magic channel automatically like it should, and I can’t find it.
I unplug box and plug it back in. when it reloads itself it tells me it is 10 past midnight.
Of course, the clocks go back, I check my film schedule thing. It says film purchased for 1.10am. I have to wait for a second hour.
I am now tired, but I have paid my £3.75 for this. I will stay up watching Time Team.
at 1.10am (2.10am) the channel turns over magically….
It is HALFWAY THROUGH THE FUCKING FILM.
I throw something at the telly and go to sleep.
Not a lucky day.