Return to Gothic Street Trash.

[reddragdiva]

A remarkably cheap night out on Friday. Met Alli (not Ali, someone else - a friend on a two-year working visa from Australia) in Camden for a drink at the Dev, where I have hassled her into applying for work (she's in with a chance) and then once around the markets ogling the clothing and boot porn. Then to Covent Garden, where she put in an application at a restaurant.

Then we stopped in Covent Garden (note to those who haven't been to London: this is actually a cobbled street with nothing resembling greenery in any way, shape or form) and watched a really quite good street performer - juggling skittles and chainsaws, unicycling, very good audience-embarrassing stage patter. Spotted a couple of goths in the crowd, and they came over and started talking to us - Marion (German tourist) and her friend Graham (English, crusty NMA type, resident in Austria).

Alli and Marion had a goth chick bonding experience over Cure and Mission fandom (Marion and Graham had been to see Wayne Hussey the night before), and we sat in the gutter and drank their cheap white wine (you can drink in the streets here, this being a civilised country). It was quite special seeing Marion and Alli stagger up the street towards the one open off-licence, arm in arm, loudly trying to remember all the words to "Let's Go To Bed".

(Two Tribes white wine, not merely room-temperature but actually warm: a snip at £4.09 a bottle. "Grapes From The New World", which only takes in, like, two continents. Either it was surprisingly nice or I've grown back my stomach lining some time in the last ten years.)

Graham had his twelve-string to hand and played some songs, and was very good. So opposite us we then got the worst fucking busker in the world. Electric guitar, amplifier, friend running around with tray soliciting donations, and he sounded like he was doing guitar lessons live in the street. Apparently he's been playing seven years. HE PLAYED NO SONGS AT ALL, NOT ONE. IT SOUNDED LIKE FORTY-FIVE MINUTES OF MISPLAYED GUITAR LESSONS. We had trendies in the street coming up to us and telling us the buskers in Covent Garden are normally much more talented ... His dog was cute, though - a gorgeous ten-month-old Alsatian cross called Luna.

Honestly, it's like a return to the Baby Goth Trash experience. And the origins of that old Perth saying: "Not even a goth would drink that."

(I've yet to find a case where this is true, by the way.)

Alli pined for her boy a lot, but we did our best to tempt her with the joys of Europe.

Comments

[hirez.livejournal.com]

Two tribes? Fuuu...

I'm stoked (some may consider bizarrely so, given the circumstances of my exit from London) that you seem to be getting into the swing of the place.

This week, I have mostly been listening to 2MBS-FM of Sydney. The network is stupid. What we do with the stupid network defines us as humans.

[reddragdiva]

Two tribes? Fuuu...

It was the second-cheapest thing in the place. (Cheapest was £3.79 for something that said 'BRITISH WINE' in big letters on the label.) I was expecting the Two Tribes to resemble battery acid with 12.5% alcohol, and was AMAZED when it didn't have even the piss aftertaste I've come to expect from white wine.

I'm stoked (some may consider bizarrely so, given the circumstances of my exit from London) that you seem to be getting into the swing of the place.

Except for the bit where I can afford to support myself and live closer than Essex. But apart from that, I'm loving it. Ideal place for a social butterfly like myself. Alli is getting sick of it already, though - she wants to hit the countryside.

This week, I have mostly been listening to 2MBS-FM of Sydney. The network is stupid.

Meanwhile, I am without a computer that can handle compressed audio (it reliably shits itself trying to decode MP3 or Real, let alone Ogg) and a painfully limited selection of CDs.

What we do with the stupid network defines us as humans.

I, for instance, got a LiveJournal. Ah well.