Monday, 5 December 2005

Wrong

I went to a club on Friday night, seemed a sensible thing to do what with it being Friday and all that. A very strange place it was as well, full to bursting with earnest Nathan Barley types chewing their faces and talking nonsense; how jolly it was to be surrounded by self important idjits all trying desperately hard to be cool. Having gotten out of there, falling out with the mate I had gone with in the process I took stock of my situation, I was in London, it was 2am and my rucksack was in my mate’s house. Hmmmm. I went to see if his girl friend was in, she wasn’t. I got a bagel and went back, still out, another bagel and a discussion about the relative values of Rice Crispies and Cornflakes with a guy who had a most fascinating collection of broken saucers in his back pack and then back to the flat; still out. I waited. It was cold and by three thirty I was bored of waiting so went for a walk to keep warm and less bored.

Brandy lives on the other side of town and is going to the same meeting as me in the morning so I decide to walk to his house. I don’t know my way around London but I manage to get to his house by 6am only to discover that all the lights are out. If he lived alone I would have no qualms about hammering on the door and waking him up. However, he has three house mates and I have never met any of them, I imagine they would take a dim view of being woken at 6am on a Saturday morning. Surely he will be up soon I think and do a quick calculation of what time he would get up in order to be at the meeting for 8; 6:15 would be a good guess. No not 6:15, a quick recalculation and I realise that he will be up by 6:30. In the end I wait in the cold getting more and more tired and the muscles in my legs beginning to seize, it is 7 before the lights go on and 7:10 before he gets down stairs and I can knock on the window to attract his attention.

Brandy is completely un-phased by my arrival and puts me to work making tea whilst he ponces about putting his shoes on. I’m not sure whether it was the coming in out of the cold or the stopping moving but I am suddenly grabbed by a violent shivering fit that sets my whole body shuddering. This makes life quite interesting as I try to smarten myself up for the meeting, fortunately my razor, tooth brush and toothpaste and already in my pocket. Cleaning your teeth whist shivering so had is easy, just hold the toothbrush to your mouth and let the convulsions do the rest. Shaving takes a little more focus.

Things not to do in a meeting

Sleep
Snore
Reply to questions with a “huhn” a “uh” or a “what?”

Anyway got to hurry the story along a little now as I have to go
Basically my ‘mate’ whose house my rucksack was in has gone on holiday for a week not having my possessions has caused no end of chaos over the weekend. Now I discover that in his wisdom he has left the rucksack outside his east London flat. He left it there sometime on Sunday after I had spent most of Saturday trying to get it back so chances are all my stuff will have been stolen by the time I get to his flat.

Pretty much everything that could go wrong did and still is doing.

anyway its my birthday today and so the count down to the party on December 18th begins; find out all about it at www.scramparty.com, and please, please forward the link to all your chums - it's all for charidy, mate!

2 comments:

Sarah Mackenzie said...

Ah! Now it all begins to make sense ;)

SameOld said...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DM! Sorry I won't be able to attend your party. You have a nice time, though!