The weekend was full of strange events. After collapsing into a heap on Friday I awoke on Saturday rested and positively fizzing with vim and vigour. A friend has told me about an event being run in Trafalgar Square that I thought could be jolly good fun to join in on.
The co-ordinated thing was a mass freezing. Another group had run one of these events in Grand Central Station in New York. If you hunt around on YouTube you will find a very charming video of it going on and all the people who witnessed it being bemused, delighted and a little bit scared by people suddenly freezing for five minutes.
I cycled over to Trafalgar running a little late as I made rather slow progress on The King's Road because of the Chelsea game. Any time Chelsea play football at home the whole of Chelsea and Fulham falls to pieces. Luckily the Terror bike (brought on the day of the London terror attacks so I could get home) allowed me to whoosh past various grumpy types in their sports cars and I made it to Trafalgar Square with moments to spare.
I quickly struck a suitable pose and when the chap played the trumpet, froze. I couldn't see much as my head was down and my floppy hair was covering my eyes but I could definitely hear people being shocked. After a couple of minutes some children posed with me for a photo and a German couple had a loud conversation about what was going on.
When they time was up there was a round of applause and we all went to the pub satisfied that we had made London a little bit stranger. I had a couple of pints with a friend who was wearing an excellent green skirt and then bimbled back home.
The evening was a quiet one, I was supposed to go to a party but my flatmate has requested that I'm home by 11 because she needs her sleep so it makes going to social events somewhat challenging. Deciding that a two hour commute to spend five minutes at a party was a bit of a waste I read a book instead.
On Sunday I had a friend over for coffee and cake and then went to have a meal at my friends house, we haven't seen each other for a while and I discovered she has become an up-market Madam. I'm not a big fan of pimps, being that they are violent horrible men who are definitely not paragons of style but I'm not sure what I feel about Madams. Especially high-class ones who girls seem to enjoy what they do and seem to be paid to go to Monaco quite a lot.
Nice work if you can get it, but I'm not sure I could become a gigolo when I've got a curfew.
3 comments:
'Gigolo With A Curfew'. If that isn't a book I'll eat my hat.
I think you should encourage your up-market madam friend to start a blog.
Clair - I'll see if I can find a place that serves hat today.
GB - I will ask her, I'm sure it would be very entertaining. She said the names of some footballers who use her services but I don't watch football so it was a bit lost on me.
Post a Comment