The desire to get out of town today wasn’t one I felt acutely, but nonetheless a request made to Reggae to drive a transit van to Essex for him which offered me the opportunity to adopt my White Van Man persona for the morning wasn’t one I was going to turn down in a hurry. Housemate Reggae and I (a White Van Man always needs a mate, for leering-out-of-the-window duties) set out to Harlow this morning, and as we headed north through Finsbury Park and Seven Sisters North London looked to be going about its business as per usual, albeit with bored police officers lounging outside tube stations.
Harlow turned out to be representative of Essex as a whole: largely unimpressive and not much to look at, but by and large harmless. The fence of David Beckham’s mansion was depressingly the highlight.
Having managed to bypass the increased security of London’s transport system, Housemate Reggae and I blagged free passage into Liverpool Street at 1ish. Hungry and eager for a drink, we headed for the adjacent and rather extravagant Wetherspoons. Stood at the bar, I noticed Thursday’s Curry Club was being advertised at cut price. Curious, I enquired about its availability.
“Yes, we’re doing it today cheap,” replied the girl behind the bar, “because, you know, obviously we were closed yesterday.”
“Fucking result!” I hooted, “Every cloud, eh? Every cloud!”
She stared blankly at me. I’m not sure if she thought I was an insensitive prick, or just a prick in general.
4 weeks ago