Quaint ramblings and occasional reflections of a journeying Aussie musician...

13 April 2006

"Feed the birds...."

I thought it was snow at first, but the warmer spring weather wouldn't have it....little seedlings from some far off unknown plant were drifting aimlessly down Chancery Lane towards me as I strode toward the bank.
Standing at the teller window, I started to realise how incredibly aware I was today of...well....everything. I had come to the High Holborn branch to pay my National Insurance self-employment contribution, about two quid a week, backdated through the past three months. An amount I was unconcerned with, but yet another seemingly useless bill to pay in this country nevertheless.
The new teller left momentarily, and whilst looking behind me along the queue that streched almost out the door....
"But I want to keep my tuppence...I want it to feed the birds!"
"Fiddlesticks, boy..."
What am I paying this stupid bill for? Why don't I run off down the street and feed the birds. St Pauls is only a couple of blocks away, maybe the old woman would be there.....
The cultural references got me straightaway when I got here....I can't walk past Covent Garden piazza without seeing Audrey Hepburn yelling "Aaaaaooowww" and careering down a flower cart.....
"Hello gorgeous"
At the next window, chiseled, spiky haired City Boy in the cheap grey pinstripe suit next to me is trying to raise a smile from Rowena the large-breasted teller in the red top, to kill the boredom of a mundane bank run on a warm Thursday afternoon.....
I discover myself playing with paper clip on the counter.....piped radio tells us all of the latest media tale of gloom, an old woman found dead in her home after two years.....wonder how many days the rags will milk that one, maybe a week if we're lucky....
"I read the news today oh boy...."
Was it that second coffee with D-Funk this morning? Or is it my appointment this evening in Ladbroke Grove with the gorgeous Hungarian girl who can't speak a word of the Queen's tongue.....
Yes, gentle readers, after some encouraging comments from various parties, I decided to text her up last night from the gig and see what she would be doing tonight. "Meet her near your place," said CL as she drove me home afterwards.....
And why, while wearing the poker face through the afternoon, while surfing the torrent of blood and adrenaline running through my veins, is there always that hint of melancholy about the whole thing? Bloody artistic types!....
Bill paid. I stride back out into the light.....

1 comment:

Sherd said...

So? So? What happened??

It's very difficult to live vicariously through your experiences when you don't blog them as soon as they happen!!!