Another weekend and a Monday night...

ag‧o‧ra‧pho‧bi‧a  [ag-er-uh-foh-bee-uh] noun Psychiatry.
an abnormal fear of being in crowds, public places, or open areas, sometimes accompanied by anxiety attacks.

The weekend was filled of fun activities and real people.

Friday we had a problem with some plumbing and had to call a plumber in as we were wasting a lot of water. The plumber was a friendly enough bloke who felt comfortable to share some of his racist views; including his surprise at me coming from Mexico and saying 'Funny... I thought you all went over to the states...'. The whole joke ended up costing close to £400 and a hole in the wall.

On Friday night I went to the pub with Monkey and I was talking shit loads to begin with. Like a prisoner who has been in solitary confinement for a few weeks too many. My excitement of seeing real people can have an averse reaction. I felt like Spud in the interview for the first pint or two.

Saturday was great. More real people! A couple of friends came for dinner and we went to a gig in the town. We were so old compared to the rest of the people there that we must have looked like the local nonce squad. To the point that not only was I frisked by the bouncer, but he opened my pack of cigarettes (fine) and checked every bloody compartment in my wallet. As if I was going to carry any fucking drugs into a gig in that town!!! I was frisked and my wallet had the rubber glove intrusive treatment. There was bloody kids wrestling each other to the ground!!!

Bouncers are one step up from shopping centre/supermarket security on the security ladder. Most of them are failed coppers. Can't even become a copper!!! Security. They feel all mighty with the uniform, but... add a walkie talkie to the ensemble and they become mini despot dictators. Now add the ear-piece that a bouncer has and you do the maths...

Sunday!!! More people. I don't know how can I cope with all this. The funniest thing is that as every minute passes by I have less to tell people. I bore them usually and now I have ten minutes catch up for the last month. They have things to tell me and I can't help but get jealous. We talked for a while about each other's family 'secrets' and compared how twisted our relatives were.

Yesterday, Monday (11/09/06) we went to the recording of a radio 2 show, it was alright, but not great. Whilst waiting at the queue a (weird and lonely) bloke started talking to us. He was in his mid thirties, had a packed lunch and his social life consisted in going to show recordings and probably reviewing them to his mother. He told us about all the shows he's been to and a lot more things which I wish I hadn't heard. He even went to tell us that his watch was 2 minutes fast!!! How much detail and how much did I care? It is so he doesn't miss his train, by the way.
He interrupted a bloke on the phone, because he dared to mention over the phone that he was at the recording of a TV SHOW?!?! This bloke interrupted him by saying four times that it was a radio show. He cut the same bloke right in the middle of a funny story... to point at the queue and tell them it would move soon. All they could reply was ‘Don’t worry, we won’t forget going in’ and then we all watch the tumbleweeds roll for half a minute until he said ‘sorry… carry on’ as if he was included in their conversation.
Thinking about him, I can see him on the way to the show eating a pork pie in the tube. Crumbs falling on his lap and spitting some more to the passenger seating next to him as he tells him about the show he is on his way to see. When he was talking to us and his words became fluffy pillows smothering us in our sleep...
Sonya asked him a couple of questions!?!?!? I know she was only being polite, but that put us under the threat of him wanting to sit with us. Even worse, people thinking we were all together!!!

Who ever he is I am sure his mother laughed when he repeated the jokes and certainly reprimanded him for not leaving out the swear words. Because of his swearing he is today sitting at work, looking at his packed lunch contemplating the missing Kit Kat bar... Now, who's been a naughty boy?