A better day:
A better day.
Even if it was really wrong at times.
I felt more in control and more comfortable. Although Elaine the List caller does tell me off for Umming when I read the register.
Thanks a lot, Elaine. I don't give you any static for saying 'Arks' instead of 'Ask'.
The low point of the day was a fifty four year old man on the Methadone programme who was there for carrying a carving knife in public. Yep, another fucking junkie. He was drooling on himself, he smelt fucking awful, his speech was slurred and incoherent. Plus his skin was yellow.
And guess who had to hold down the courtroom during his trial?
To really freak me out, when I called his case, I was told to tap him on his shoulder and lead him to the dock. That's right, I was required to touch this piece of horror.
That was before his defence counsel explained that he was HIV positive, plus he was experiencing Liver Failure. That coupled with the Yellow Skin indicates he probably had some kind of Hepatitis too.
Fucking hell. I had a major OCD attack, but I had to wait an hour or more to get to wash my hands.
Here's his story: him and his pal had been caught with a carving knife and a hammer in a plastic on Camden High Street.
He argued he was taking it to be sharpened at an Ironmongers.
The Police Witnesses, the Judge and everyone else surmised that him and his pal were probably up to no good.
They mentioned at sentencing that he had convictions for GBH going back thirty-five years.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Other than that, there was a case of some guy who had been dumped by his Swedish Girlfriend and subsequently sent 47 threatening messages to her and her new boyfriend, plus stalking her at her home, her workplace and her Family in Sweden.
Not good.
Still, I'm getting the hang of this job, and they did say 'I do hope you will be back on Monday'. Which is better than saying 'Geez, you really want to come back Monday?'.
I must admit that a piece of me really wanted to walk out yesterday, but I decided not to, since the job means I can meet cute solicitor girls and possibly see La Rosa on the way to work.
Back track to last night:
I came home, got changed and got on the tube back to Tottenham Court Road. It was a mercifully short journey, compared to the one I had taken on the way home.
Get to Opeth, the supports are playing. Run into Hilary and members of her band. Hilary seems to be cold shouldering me, which shouldn't bother me, but it does.
As it was, Opeth are one of my Favourite bands, but feeling lonely and tired, the heaviness of the music and the melancholy of the tunes hung on my heart like hooks draped with lead weights. If she hadn't changed her hair from dark brown back to strawberry blonder, I would just shrug it all off. At least the stripping process means her hair insn't so soft any more. That was the part that always got me.
Anyways, it has been my observation that shades of my old Charmed life are starting to find their frequency again in London. Strangers are inviting me into their houses. I'm meeting cool girls and other trippy people. The shield of ice that all Londoners project around them is starting to melt, person by person, for me.
Geez I'm tired.
At Opeth I did actually get to see some friends. Like Katie Parsons from Metal Hammer, who I see at metal and hardcore shows sometimes. And Ruben the Tour Manager, and one of my friend Daniel's Friends who is from the Gold Coast.
On the tube home, in a Brilliant piece of Six Degrees of Jason, I met a couple of musos who had just done session work with a singer songwriter. Named Eden James.
From Brisbane. He mentioned that Eden James is co-writing stuff with John Drake.
"You're fucking shitting me!"
These guys were amazed to hear that me and John Drake went to school together. I was amazed to hear that John was currently working at the BBC doing some editing stuff and writing songs in his spare time.
Six degrees of Jason. It all started because I noticed that the blokes were carrying a snare drum and some cymbals.
Anyways, I'm going to go home, have a shower and meet those kids at the Pub. Then I'm going to take the tube to Highbury and Islington and go to Sick and Twisted, a crazy Drill n Bass/Industrial club upstairs at the Garage.
Rock and roll.
Over and out.
J
Even if it was really wrong at times.
I felt more in control and more comfortable. Although Elaine the List caller does tell me off for Umming when I read the register.
Thanks a lot, Elaine. I don't give you any static for saying 'Arks' instead of 'Ask'.
The low point of the day was a fifty four year old man on the Methadone programme who was there for carrying a carving knife in public. Yep, another fucking junkie. He was drooling on himself, he smelt fucking awful, his speech was slurred and incoherent. Plus his skin was yellow.
And guess who had to hold down the courtroom during his trial?
To really freak me out, when I called his case, I was told to tap him on his shoulder and lead him to the dock. That's right, I was required to touch this piece of horror.
That was before his defence counsel explained that he was HIV positive, plus he was experiencing Liver Failure. That coupled with the Yellow Skin indicates he probably had some kind of Hepatitis too.
Fucking hell. I had a major OCD attack, but I had to wait an hour or more to get to wash my hands.
Here's his story: him and his pal had been caught with a carving knife and a hammer in a plastic on Camden High Street.
He argued he was taking it to be sharpened at an Ironmongers.
The Police Witnesses, the Judge and everyone else surmised that him and his pal were probably up to no good.
They mentioned at sentencing that he had convictions for GBH going back thirty-five years.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Other than that, there was a case of some guy who had been dumped by his Swedish Girlfriend and subsequently sent 47 threatening messages to her and her new boyfriend, plus stalking her at her home, her workplace and her Family in Sweden.
Not good.
Still, I'm getting the hang of this job, and they did say 'I do hope you will be back on Monday'. Which is better than saying 'Geez, you really want to come back Monday?'.
I must admit that a piece of me really wanted to walk out yesterday, but I decided not to, since the job means I can meet cute solicitor girls and possibly see La Rosa on the way to work.
Back track to last night:
I came home, got changed and got on the tube back to Tottenham Court Road. It was a mercifully short journey, compared to the one I had taken on the way home.
Get to Opeth, the supports are playing. Run into Hilary and members of her band. Hilary seems to be cold shouldering me, which shouldn't bother me, but it does.
As it was, Opeth are one of my Favourite bands, but feeling lonely and tired, the heaviness of the music and the melancholy of the tunes hung on my heart like hooks draped with lead weights. If she hadn't changed her hair from dark brown back to strawberry blonder, I would just shrug it all off. At least the stripping process means her hair insn't so soft any more. That was the part that always got me.
Anyways, it has been my observation that shades of my old Charmed life are starting to find their frequency again in London. Strangers are inviting me into their houses. I'm meeting cool girls and other trippy people. The shield of ice that all Londoners project around them is starting to melt, person by person, for me.
Geez I'm tired.
At Opeth I did actually get to see some friends. Like Katie Parsons from Metal Hammer, who I see at metal and hardcore shows sometimes. And Ruben the Tour Manager, and one of my friend Daniel's Friends who is from the Gold Coast.
On the tube home, in a Brilliant piece of Six Degrees of Jason, I met a couple of musos who had just done session work with a singer songwriter. Named Eden James.
From Brisbane. He mentioned that Eden James is co-writing stuff with John Drake.
"You're fucking shitting me!"
These guys were amazed to hear that me and John Drake went to school together. I was amazed to hear that John was currently working at the BBC doing some editing stuff and writing songs in his spare time.
Six degrees of Jason. It all started because I noticed that the blokes were carrying a snare drum and some cymbals.
Anyways, I'm going to go home, have a shower and meet those kids at the Pub. Then I'm going to take the tube to Highbury and Islington and go to Sick and Twisted, a crazy Drill n Bass/Industrial club upstairs at the Garage.
Rock and roll.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 5:51 pm
1 Comments:
Sounds colorful. Saw your comment on a spam site that posted to my blog also. I live in U S Texas. Your job sounds interesting, should make for some good stories!
*D
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