Chinatown.
“Here we go.” I think to myself.
There is an obvious Mental heading straight for me. I’m like a magnet for these people.
I’m outside the office building that I work in, smoking a cigarette with some colleagues. A very small, over-dressed, ridiculously be-spectacled nut-case heads in our direction. He looks like someone has 'wardrobed' him with the brief of ‘making me look as out of place as possible with a budget of only a million pounds’.
His wheeled-suitcase is probably worth more than the house I live in, and the back-street where we choose to smoke is somewhere that people are routinely murdered after dark. True. This is already very weird.
“Hi. Do you know somewhere I can get some Chinese food?”
It’s ten o’clock in the morning. And millionaire-boy wants some Chinese food. Of course. And he’s asking me. Obviously. Nut-case.
“What?”
“It’s just I have to be at the theatre in an hour and I’m starving.”
Fuck’s sake we’ve all got problems, it’s only gone ten and I’ve had a dreadful day already. I’m guessing you’ve come from the train station across the street and am – DO YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK OFF.
That’s what I think. What I actually do is brusquely give him directions to Chinatown, secure in the knowledge that there shan’t be a single place open before lunchtime.
Some time passes. I’m smoking a cigarette with a colleague who I threatened with physical violence over the phone one evening some weeks ago but we’re fine now. It’s a long story and I don’t come out of it terribly well.
Colleague: I know you’re a Gay Magnet but that was just stupid. And you didn’t have to be so rude.
Me: Do you want some more? Do you? Anyway. What?
Colleague: That was Wayne Sleep.
Me: Was it?
Colleague: Yes
Me: Oh.
There is an obvious Mental heading straight for me. I’m like a magnet for these people.
I’m outside the office building that I work in, smoking a cigarette with some colleagues. A very small, over-dressed, ridiculously be-spectacled nut-case heads in our direction. He looks like someone has 'wardrobed' him with the brief of ‘making me look as out of place as possible with a budget of only a million pounds’.
His wheeled-suitcase is probably worth more than the house I live in, and the back-street where we choose to smoke is somewhere that people are routinely murdered after dark. True. This is already very weird.
“Hi. Do you know somewhere I can get some Chinese food?”
It’s ten o’clock in the morning. And millionaire-boy wants some Chinese food. Of course. And he’s asking me. Obviously. Nut-case.
“What?”
“It’s just I have to be at the theatre in an hour and I’m starving.”
Fuck’s sake we’ve all got problems, it’s only gone ten and I’ve had a dreadful day already. I’m guessing you’ve come from the train station across the street and am – DO YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK OFF.
That’s what I think. What I actually do is brusquely give him directions to Chinatown, secure in the knowledge that there shan’t be a single place open before lunchtime.
Some time passes. I’m smoking a cigarette with a colleague who I threatened with physical violence over the phone one evening some weeks ago but we’re fine now. It’s a long story and I don’t come out of it terribly well.
Colleague: I know you’re a Gay Magnet but that was just stupid. And you didn’t have to be so rude.
Me: Do you want some more? Do you? Anyway. What?
Colleague: That was Wayne Sleep.
Me: Was it?
Colleague: Yes
Me: Oh.
posted by Tired Dad at
10:36 pm
17 Comments:
I thought he was in Vegas. You can be forgiven.
At least he never got to find out who does the murders.
Wait. Wayne Sleep is still alive?? He was getting on a bit when I left to live in the Colonies, lo these many years ago; hard to believe he's still around.
Who the hell is Wayne Sleep?
BTW, if you're in Glasgow, is the Kardomah or the Design Centre still there?
Classic :-)
Ellie: He may well be. This was last year.
Debs: That one's getting old to be honest.
Tessa: Hello. Yes he is. He was touring Cabaret as I later discovered.
TSB: No idea what you're on about chief.
Grace: Thanks. Weren't you called something else or am I just not paying attention?
never underestimate the burning desire that chinese food can ignite... especially really good chinese food!!! I once spent an hour trying to find a chinese place open at 2 am on a tuesday. I found one too.
Lil: Good for you. So what.
I feel a sort of satisfaction when I fail to recognise famous people (even if we use "famous" in a loose, Wayne Sleep, sort of sense).
Anyway, has he not got a iPhone or something? I gather they can connect wireless to the internet in many places now.
rude to wayne sleep.... so what? i had to discover who he was.
Looby: Yeah, I insulted a 'well-known' person without realising. And no doubt you're right.
Carlos: Lovely to see you back and more coherent than your friend Dave. nd I'm pleased to see your English is as good as ever despite it not being your first language. Your point?
i was going to leave apithy comment, then realised iwas thinking of leo sayer. doh!
Barnsley: Welcome. I'm going to assume that you've commented via some sort of ineffectual touch-screen mobile device and can actually type in real life.
So, how's your brain fart thingy?
Anon: Jury's still out.
Please say you didn't touch him! He clearly must have AIDS as he's queer!
Anyone who eats Chinese in the morning has to be queer.
Except when I finished the previous nights takeaway. That's different.
I'm clearly not queer and.....
...be quiet Dinners.
4D: You have excelled yourself. I am not saying if that is good or bad.
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