Toys, taxis and tourettes

I’ve just been for a wander in London, mostly to get out of the office for some fresh air and to stretch my legs.

My travels took me to ‘Forbidden Planet’; a Mecca to geeks up and down the country, selling all sorts of film, gaming and comic memorabilia. 

I passed a couple with their young son who was holding a life size replica of the portal gun from Aperture Laboratories, made famous by the game ‘Portal’.  Awesome!

As I got nearer I heard the dad telling the boy that he couldn’t have it.  This is fair enough, but the kid was already holding it in his arms.  At least tell the boy BEFORE you’ve watched him carefully pick it up off the shelf and hold it lovingly in his arms like a puppy, you turd.  

He pleaded with his dad, but the answer was no.

“How about a foam sword son?”

“How about you suck my hairless balls dad?”

I mooched around the shop for a bit, dribbling over Star Wars stuff, before heading back out into the rain. 

As I got to Tottenham Court road I saw a woman in a suit hail a taxi from the kerb.  She threw her arm up like an enthusiastic pupil answering a classroom question and the cab pulled over sharply.  She hop, skipped and jumped the deepening puddles towards the taxi door only to stop, turn back and shout “for fucks sake!” at the top of her lungs.

This turned a few heads.

It seems three Chinese students had beaten her to the taxi, and as it sped off she angrily attempted to hail another one.  This time she looked less like a pupil and more like a Nazi.

To top all this off I saw a skinny little man with a massive beard waiting to cross the road; shouting and arguing with the traffic lights, the pavement and the corner of the pub.  Despite it being one of the busiest cities in the world, there didn’t seem to be anyone else needing to cross the road at that moment. 

Weird.

Advertisements

Forrest Grump….

Clip clop clip clop clip clop CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP CLIPCLOPCLIPCLOP!

That’s the sound of ME running for the train like a deranged donkey; bag and brolly flailing in my wake as I slalom shuffling commuters like a survivor in a zombie apocalypse.  I think I took out some kid with my bag, but its hard to tell…I mean this blood and snot could’ve come from anywhere, right? Right??  And whose tooth is this?

Anyway…

Why am I so late?  Well let me tell you.

I drove to the station this morning in the realisation that my monthly travel card had expired and I needed another one.  At least, I was hoping the police would believe that when I have to explain how I achieved the 13 minute drive in 7.

But that aside…

I then power minced from the car to the station.  I can’t call it a power walk, because it was that kind of walk that’s a little faster than a power walk; it’s almost a run, but not.  It’s what the professional walkers do.  Hmm, maybe I’ll rewrite this paragraph.

I walked to the station like a toned Olympic athlete, and prided myself on getting there super early so I had time to get my ticket.

Queue.

Massive queue.

Shit.

So I took my place at the back of this miserable and unmoving conga line.  And as I’m stood there among the zombies, I could hear the requests from the shufflers at the front who had made it to the coveted ticket window.  Amongst the genuine requests for tickets, I also heard this little gem; “Can I have a ticket for tomorrow please?”

What??  Are you effing KIDDING me??  You’re not even travelling today?

There was also this little delight; “How much is it to Croydon?”.  Normal enough, except this penis wasn’t even buying a ticket…he just wanted to know the price!

Of course, none of this was done in stasis; the clock was still ticking and it was getting incredibly close to my train pulling in.  One woman in front of me must’ve been in the same situation as she kept huffing, puffing and sighing heavily whilst constantly looking at her watch.

Reminds me of sex with my ex.

So I finally make it to the sacred fenestrated wall and I’m done in under 20 seconds. People behind me are clapping and cheering; one woman is crying; someone gives me their baby to kiss.  It was emotional.

Ok, that didn’t actually happen, but we all thought it.

I turn on my heel and bolt for the platform barrier, which is where I began this tale.

I literally run all the way up the slope, onto the platform, straight onto the train (as the door closes right behind me) and into a seat.  What a great feeling; made even better by seeing a woman do the same behind me, but she was too late; stopped by Mr Jobsworth on the platform.

I’m not great at lip reading, but I think she just said “you can’t! You’re far, king sheet and can’t!”  Dunno what that means.

Her snot nosed kid didn’t look impressed.  It might be because he had a nose bleed, and he seemed to be missing a tooth.

Somewhere over the hill…er, rainbow

Ok, I know I’m not a kid anymore.

I know they say you’re ‘only as young as you feel’ blah blah…but I’m very aware I’m in my thirties and grown up.

So why, when I saw a rainbow this morning over three bridges did I want to shout out “look everyone, a rainbow!! Coooool!!!”

????