Tuesday
Awake at 9.30, its bucketing down, fuck
that, go back to sleep. Get up after 11. Sleep routine is so messed up right
now its killing me. Milk tastes just edging on sour, almost ruins my weetabix. There’s
the tiniest bit left after me. I pack my good trousers and two books and head
out. Yesterday I went running in my barefoot runners up hills without having
broken them in properly and by the end my calves were in a lot of pain. By the
morning they were as tight as a motherfucker. I’ve been renewing this book for
months cause I don’t live near a library anymore that’s in the London
Walked up to Hackney to go get some fabric.
Almost as soon as I got there a big argument broke out between the manager and
two African ladies. This guy takes no shit from no one and doesn’t really give
a crap about customer service in the slightest. They were buying some cloth
that a staff member said was £2 a meter.
The manager said he was mistaken its
actually £3 a meter.
But he said it was £2.
He was wrong, its £3. Cue massive argument
for about 10 minutes. I managed to get about a quarter of it on video (which I
cant find now) but it was really dying down by that stage which will tell you
how bad it had been. Pisspot came over and looked at cloth but couldn’t pick
anything. Says he might be moving out soon cause he’s jobless too. Move in with
me, I need someone in a month or so.
Got some fabric then jumped on a bus to
Oxford Circus. Some guy across from me offered me a banana. I was OK but he
says go on take it I just got too many. It was green so I wasn’t pushed but I
took it anyway to please him. He spent most of the rest of the journey talking
to himself so I figured maybe I’d throw it in the next bin. Got to town but tailor
shop owner had left work early, talked to new guy for a bit, sound chap.
---What are you doing in town?
---Ah just meeting someone, might be going to
the opera or something I don’t know.
---Just get drunk.
---Good idea. Says for me to ring shop owner,
I do but no answer.
Then I get a text from the new extras
agency I signed up for. They want to put me forward for a stand in for an
actual actor. Holy shit. Ha, maybe I do look a bit like him. It’s on Friday but
I’m away for the weekend working at a festival. Shit I still need to fork out
for a tent. I still haven’t heard when the bus is going, maybe its not going
til Friday and I could make the casting, or I could head down late. But if I
get there late they’ll probably cut me and I won’t make any money this weekend.
Head over to Covent Garden, she’s in the return
queue for day 2 tickets for Swan Lake. She’s about 5th out of 10
people. I wonder can I mooch in but decide not to. Maybe she can buy two
tickets anyway. I check my mail and see the bus is going down Thursday evening,
balls. Fuck it I’ll text back and say I’ll go for the casting. Maybe it will
all work out. She’s starving so I give her the banana and head to the back of
the queue. A while later she comes down and we say we might leave then she heads
back to her spot, calls me, I pick up my bag, she says no leave your stuff, I
walk over and some old bollox half way between me and her in the queue starts
screaming at her about trying to get me to skip in.
I was like ---my stuff is back there, we’re just talking,
I was like ---my stuff is back there, we’re just talking,
---Yeah you are now that I caught you.
-If I wanted to skip in I would have done it
earlier when you weren’t watching when I was standing talking to her.
---No cause I was watching you then too.
If you were a hundred years younger I’d….
Then he went on and on shouting and waving
his newspaper about. She got upset but tells me that the woman beside her in
the queue will sell her an £8 ticket when she gets a better one for herself. Then
she’ll give that to me and get a semi decent one for herself. We went back to
our spots but after a few minutes I decided I couldn’t put up with that old
fucker, it must be something after seeing that argument earlier that you can’t
just have people shouting at you for nothing. Well I gave him a piece of my
mind and told him he should apologize but I guess I wasn’t too convincing and
he didn’t back down or admit he was wrong. You get some right twats at events
like this. He kept looking down at my shoes like he was going to say something
but I suppose I did feel like a bit of a hobo around the people in there.
Well the £8 ticket was £8 for a reason. If
I really leaned forward and craned my neck I had a view of one quarter of the
stage although at the time I thought it was half. People would be clapping and
bravo-ing at dances that I wouldn’t even know had happened. Doesn’t matter
anyway I just spent the whole time replaying the arguments with that old jerk
over and over in my head. Then it ends and people start bowing. Is that it?
Hope so, its fucking shit from up here. Go out and turns out it’s only half
time but she has a great seat for me for the second half. Its two rows in front
of her and she’s dead centre but miles up the back. Complete view of the stage
though. Fuck I don’t know, what if that guy comes in and I’m sitting in his
seat, that would not go down well with this crowd if I had to move from the
middle of a row in the middle of some stupid dance. She also says that the girl
beside her is getting her seat invaded by the ass of a large lady beside her
and she’s moaning about her the whole time and even took a picture of the ass
to show the ticket guys and try get a partial refund. The absolute wankers that
go to this sort of thing.
We go back in and I chance taking the seat.
But it’s a long 5 minutes and I am shitting it, completely land locked right
dead centre in the middle of the whole section. If I have to get up now with my
school bag and my bottle of water and my shit jacket and squeeze my way out I
will fucking die. The old guy will probably see me, stand up and say I knew he
was skipping in, get him fella’s, and all these posh twats will turn their
noses up at me or bite their thumbs at me or something. But they close the door
and I’m safe. The shows good but I don’t have a clue what is happening. We head
for pizza after and then she gets the tube while I opt for the bus. At least I
won’t have to walk up that hill.
Wednesday
Battery on phone died, had meant to get up
at 9.30 but ended up getting up at 12 again for the how manyth time in a row. Not
good. Check phone, no text from anyone. What the craic am I going to do today
then? Might as well just try finish my book before I head off for the weekend.
No milk, can’t even get breakfast.
I turn on her laptop and my hotspot, need
to sort out the electricity bill before we get our electricity cut off. I tried
to set up an account but it just wouldn’t work so I’ve been mailing some guy in
India
She checks the fridge and sees the milk
situation, I ask her can she get some cause my legs are fucked plus I’m only
here for 2 more breakfasts. She comes back with some great unbelievable news.
Down in co-op they are selling 36 packs of weetabix for £1.50 or something.
It’s a 24 pack with 50% free (a 36) and its half price she says but for some
reason she only got one pack. A 24 pack for £2 was the benchmark but now its
rare you get it for anything less than £2.14 so if you see it for £2 you buy
it. If you see a 36 pack for less than £3 or a 48 pack for less than £4 then you
stock up.
I thought I had one last pair of boxers but
I’m all out so its commando for today, doesn’t matter anyway cause I wont be
going anywhere except down to co-op and I suppose to tesco to buy a tent before
I leave it too late. After my most recent move I threw out all my tighty boxers
and now I’ve no emergency pairs. I’m literally down to 8 pairs including one
that just the other week I ripped right down the front. Before we head out I go
downstairs to put on a wash. On the way back just before I get to the lift I
get a call. Its some guy who I cant really understand so I assume its one of
them numbers I called on say no to 0870 so I say did you get a missed call off
me and he says no I’m calling about the tailoring job and I’m thinking could it
be one of the guys from yesterday already then he says from ______street,
new guy told me about you. Holy shit it’s him, this is the one I’ve been
waiting for.
---Do you want to come in for a trial then we’ll see what you can do and decide to take you on.
---Do you want to come in for a trial then we’ll see what you can do and decide to take you on.
---Yes.
---Can you do this Friday?
---No I can do tomorrow before 3 then I have
to go away to work for the weekend.
---Ok I’ll ring you Monday and we’ll see.
Walk in the door, it’s a miracle. Mood is
instantly through the roof.
---This tailor I called into like 2 months ago
just rang me. What if I was in the lift? What if I didn’t bring my phone down
and ignored the missed call? I cant believe it.
---Oh don’t think too much about this as the
only one.
---You mean put all my eggs in one basket? I
always put all my eggs in the one basket.
---Ha in Germany
I put on swan lake on my ipod, the thoughts
in my head start racing. Fuck I need somewhere to practice. I get out my tailoring
folder, look at a double jetted pocket, point at it, I need to learn this one
again, where I am going to practice before Monday? I call a friend but there’s
some weird noise, she works in the basement so that must be it. She said I
could come in and work there any time though. If I could get to hers and just
practice that a few times I’ll be sweet. Fuck why did I say I’d do that
casting, its just going to be way more pressure than I need. I ring tailor
friend, does he have a machine at home to practice? No answer. We go to head
out, ---why am I going out, I should be staying here in case I get through to
someone so I can head there rather than going down and having to come back up
to get stuff.
---Take your sewing stuff with you.
I shove a load of random bits of fabric in
my bag and walk out the door. I get a call from tailor friend on the stairs.
Going downstairs is the worst on my calves, I’m like a cow or a calf, its
ridiculous. ---Hows it going? I’m alright how are you? We get cut off.
We stop into co-op and see the weetabix was
too good to be true. Its £2.50, she was looking at the label from the
cornflakes on the shelf above. Never mind though that’s still a good price for
a 36 pack and there’s plenty there, will stock up on the way home. We pass the
fridge store but I’ll get to him on the way back. Get to the dole office, ring the
benefits centre again for the 10th time in the last few months. Tell
them the same old spiel, he says they will ring me today or tomorrow, just like
the woman said last week. I head out, not as pissed off as I usually am. Go
into tesco, there’s a tesco tent for £11 or a branded one for £25. Tempted to
go for the tesco one to save on cash but it doesn’t have any waterproof rating
so I go for the other one and head back home. Maybe I’ll go to other friend’s
house tonight and see if she’ll let me use her sewing machine again even though
I broke the pedal the last time (not my fault.) I could cycle there, might not
be so bad on my legs.
How many boxes of weetabix will I get? 4?
5? If I wasn’t so broke I would be stocking up but then again I still have a
full 48 pack from the last time I stocked up in tesco. I’ll just get 2 boxes to
be on the safe side in case I have to move out before they’re eaten. Just
before I get to co-op the fridge store is in my sights. We bought a shitty
little one there for £45 but the freezer part doesn’t work well enough so I’ve
been into him a few times. The first time he started to say “well in this
weather…” before I stopped him right there. You can’t blame the heat for a
fridge not working you absolute chancer. He said come back in a day or two
cause he’s no one with him today. I called the next day and his buddy answers.
I tell him the story but we get cut off so I text him the address. Cleary I get
ignored cause no fridge arrives. A few days later I call in again and he jumps
when he sees me. Then he says ---he has one right there for me out the back, the
woman should be in to clean it tomorrow then he can drop it up to me.
---Are you sure you don’t want my phone number
this time?
---Nah I have a key, I’ll just leave it
outside your door if you’re not there.
I stayed in all day and no fridge arrived.
Why the fuck does he have a key to the building? Obviously he cut a deal and
took all the fridges before we moved in and now he’s selling them on to us,
what a rip. So today I’m walking up the street and he steps off the back of a
van, sees me, looks alarmed, points at me and remembers. Then he says I’ll drop
it right up and I’ll give you this one here, its usually £75 but because we
messed you around you can have it. You’ll have to clean it yourself though cause
the woman still hasn’t come in. I get my weetabix and head home. Its half 5 and
still no sign so I give him a call. Doesn’t answer. I get a text from the
casting agency, I wasn’t selected for it, grand so. He calls and is just
outside. Bring in the new fridge, move the old one to the side to keep our
stuff fresh til the gases settle but the new one is taller and is getting
obstructed by a cupboard on the right hand side. Guy says just knock a piece of
wood on the floor out of the way and it will fit right in and leaves quickly. I
say does he want the old one, nah just give it to one of your mates. I go back
in and it is not fitting, everything will be on a slight slope or rolling and
it’s going to look ridiculous. Big freezer though, high time I got back to the
fish market. When I get around to plugging it in it turns out the freezer door
doesn’t close properly.
Thursday
I read the time wrong and miss the bus down
to the festival so have to fork out for my own. On the way I read all about the
East London tailors and it looks fucking
deadly. All my eggs are now in its basket. I get an email - lets meet on
Wednesday for a chat. Lets.
The problem with working festivals is for 3
days work you have to commit 5 days and you’re not exactly guaranteed a full
days work. I ended up working 3 festivals in August which is half the month
gone for feck all money really. Another problem is it’s a bit first day of
school vibe trying to make new friends which I’m not that great at if my memory
serves me correctly. This problem is compounded by the fact that everyone there
is 7-10 years younger than me and there to get totally smashed whereas I’m
there because I’m totally smashed.
The first evening they were handing out
microwave meals from a little portacabin. I was in line for a soup kitchen
basically. There were 2 microwaves and about 30 people which wouldn’t have been
too bad but for the fact the meals were frozen so took about 10 minutes to heat
up. Luckily I was at the front of the queue so wasn’t waiting too long. After I
left it started raining so people were in the queue for up to an hour in the
rain for a luke warm gloopy Asda microwave meal and the news that that is the
best they were to expect for the rest of the weekend.
I got landed in a half nerdy half sound
group at first. The voice of the group was an 18 year old girl who just loved
working and talking about working, so sad to see in someone so young. Everyone
except me started drinking cause I was late and missed the walk down to Asda.
We joined up with a bigger group of people but when I went to sit down I
couldn’t really get in the circle. They were the Earth and I was the moon. I
mooched around a bit but still couldn’t squeeze in so went around to the far
side and sat between a couple of people I hadn’t met yet. I’m not all that
great on sober first impressions so after a few minutes I got up and headed for
Asda. If I was going to survive this weekend I was going to have to get drunk.
New problem: all the money you make on festival weekends is spent on real food
so you don’t get scurvy and cans so people seem more interesting.
It was a good 40 minute walk to Asda. On
the way I passed a guy who was absolutely wasted carrying two bags of booze
that were ready to burst. He managed to point me in the right direction though.
Somehow they served him as much as he could carry even though he could barely
carry himself, yet they wouldn’t serve me cause I had no I.D. What an absolute
disaster. I wandered home slowly, made a couple of phone calls and went back to
my tent for the earliest night I’ve had in my life.
Friday
Next day I got on well with a sounder group
of lads. It was an electronic festival which they were all into, so they went
in and got properly fucked and had plenty of stories to tell. Turned out to be
a cracker of a weekend which was great for everyone except one of the lads on
the 8pm to 8am shift who had to sit in his tent baking for most of the day
while everyone else was working. He managed to have a few scoops behind the bar
and asked to get off early and they went out on the mega sesh. My bar wasn’t
that much craic. Down one end there was 4 giggling girls, 3 of them had braces,
but they weren’t the early 20’s life decision braces, they were still the early
teens mammy made me get them braces. God I’m old. The trick is to do as little
work as possible. Each day I would try to go longer than the day before without
serving a customer. I got up to 6 hours. Annoying workaholic girl kept telling
me what to do, I did my best to ignore her. Worked till 3 or 4am and was fresh
enough in the morning.
Saturday/Sunday
I was reading my Tour de France book when one
of the lads came in dying that afternoon.
---Are you still reading that Tour de France
book?
I’d only known the guy a day, either he’s a
really fast reader or still reads books with pictures in them. Then I noticed I
was the only person reading all weekend. If they found out my age and that I
went for a run that morning I’d be treated like a leper. He did have some great
stories though about a guy on his bar who was doing even less work than me. On
that bar there was a line of people serving customers and then a line of people
on tills. He stood alongside a till, neither serving customers nor operating
the till. As it got real late they closed sections of the bar by pulling
curtains from both sides. He used to stand behind the curtain looking directly
at it, legend.
Saturday night the 8 till 8 guy was dying
so bad that he had to leave work after 2 hours. Sunday it was the last night so
he only got a few hours, still he considers it a result of a weekend. On Sunday
our lunch was left on a crate out in the sun all day. I opted for a cheese
sandwich to be on the safe side. Afterwards I noticed it was out of date, what
if I’d had tuna? Gone off sambo’s in the sun, this really is the worst company
in the world.
Monday/Tuesday
No call back Monday. Tuesday I’m in town
and meet up with tailor friend, haven’t seen him in ages. I show him my
trousers and get some inside info about the meeting I have with the East London tailors. On the way to the train home we pass
by ______ street so I knock into the one I’ve been waiting for to ask him can I
come in for a trial tomorrow.
He says ---ok come in.
I say ---what time?
He says ---anytime.
I say are ---you sure?
He says ---anytime. Its 6pm so by that logic
6pm tomorrow would be an ok time to come in.
We get to Charing
Cross and the trains are all fucked so we go for a drink. With
what money? After a few drinks a few more and a dinner waiting on the table in
his house sounds like a good idea to me. After dinner it’s a bit late for me to
head home so I decide to stay over. Then the cornetto’s come out, what a great
day. Unfortunately I drop some chocolate on my only shirt but don’t realize
till much later. Not to worry he has a very similar shirt he can give me to
wear for tomorrow.
I go into the East
London tailors first thing. At first its just a chat. I kind of
would have preferred an interview but I’m not in the right industry for that
kind of thing anymore so I’m not really sure what to make of it. It goes well
though. Then the current in-house trouser maker comes down for more chat. She’s
really nice and really likes my trousers but I’m probably not chatty enough and
don’t really elaborate on my answers enough.
She says, ---I just want to make sure is
tailoring definitely what you want to do?
---Yes I definitely do
---But we want to make sure the person we pick
is passionate about tailoring, are you passionate about tailoring?
---Yes I’m passionate about tailoring.
I go home and get changed and head to West London for 2pm thinking after lunch is a nice time.
He kicks up a fuss.
---Why are you here so late?
---You said anytime.
---No we start here very early in the morning,
it is too late.
---But you said anytime.
If that was finance you’d walk away but its
tailoring where there is little to no unpaid jobs available so you take it. The
first thing he asked me to do I didn’t do so well. The second thing I did do
well. He’ll call me he says.
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