I HAD TO STAY at my old house last night, having had to give up trundling back and forth ~ along two bus rides and with ten minutes further trundle along innercity streets at the other end ~ as it was past midnight. I was exhausted. Still had a good two further trundles to go.
The mad Liverpudlian girlfriend of the windowcleaner downstairs insisted on coming up and helping. Oh no ~ this is going to be a great time-waste, I thought. Well-intentioned, but still a timewaste, with her chucking things out and my having to go through and still check them all anyway for things that shouldn't have gone. In the event, she cleared half the room wonderfully. I went through an enormous white bag (the kind of bag that holds half a ton of builders' sand) full of lastminute clearance from my old room upstairs. Sorted rapidly through and realized the entire lot could go.
I slept like a baby. Absolutely exhausted, and slept in till past ten, which had me very surprised: no Surlystein hammering on the door insisting "I'm taking the ceiling down NOW!..!" Surlystein, the Jamaican workman DID show up however and disrupt my final packing with his comments. Rather than riposte savage comments with harsher ones I explained to him that the grotesquely scruffy state of my old room had nothing to do with my drug addiction. I know loads of drug addicts and no-one lives like that. Pointed out that the other two (Matran and Laundretta) were on FAR MORE drugs than me: heroin-crack-alcohol binges nightly. And though he never climbed down he did listen to me and visibly soften. (Slightly.)
Surlystein was still insisting he had to "make a hole in the floor". So I had to move my stuff "now". Just before my final pack I showed up looking for Evilstein to tell him I still needed time to pack. Ended up in a conference with him and Butterstein (the actual landlord) plus Surlystein. "Isn't there anywhere I can put my stuff?" I queried. "Yes yes of course you can put it in the passage," said Butterstein as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world. "Yeah mon dat's what eye tell 'im," instisted Surlystein and I said loudly, "NO YOU DIDN'T: you told me to shove it in the front garden!" Surlystein looked a bit shifty after that but his boss didn't seem to care.
Well I got the last important lot out. So very much stuff it would barely trundle the street and I went in fear of a wheel breaking. There would have been nothing to do in that case but leave it there and cart what I could then come back to what was left after the plundering natives had been at it. Think of that film Coming To America with Eddie Murphy as the African prince who choses Queens, New York, as his place to find a real-life queen to marry. Arrives clad in furs and gold. Sets down luggage outside the bording house and we see the entire local populace run off with it over the course of 60 seconds. It's a bit like that where I live now. Very "inner city". Less salubrious even than where I am now (which is apparently the domestic burglary capital of the borough). But funkier shops and far more bargainacious.
In cultural terms I have shifted from Turkey to Jamaica. Jamaica suits me just fine. The aroma of jerk chicken billows out from shops and takeaways... signs declaring "fresh goat here~ every Thursday"... a great Chinese supermarket right near me... the ordinary highstreet superstore supermarket sells curry powder in five varieties in kilo bags... it all feels very exotic.
I came home with my last trundlery and realized I still have left behind two bags at least of clothing (including most of my socks and smalls. Great move I know and I've no idea whether any of it's left. No bus fare (borrow £3 tomorrow). So had to walk it tonight. Haven't dared spy out my old house to see what if any of my possessions might be left. I noted two Sky dishes on the side of my new place and so have returned to get the satellite box someone gave me two years ago if it's still there.) I slept deeply all afternoon in exhaustion. Acheing all over. Well I'm round the corner and shall purloin my socks back in a second (if I can).
Unlike the old place, which was just a door to slam on the world, I actually feel centred in this new one. Also I tested out the shower for half an hour and am very clean.
On a down note, I have managed to blow my sockets fuse already (checked the big box downstairs and sure enough the pushy-pully-out thing's switched permanently to OFF and requires my installing some complexicated "don't know which one" fuse. So no cookery for ME tonight... (grrr!!)
Have a great weekend, folks!
TUNE OF THE DAY (No video, so use this as a backingtrack...)
URBAN SHAKEDOWN: SOME JUSTICE
This is a classic tune from 1991ish. The sample "wooo-eeeeeee-ooo-aah: we live as one family" (that doesn't appear till 2mins55 into this mix) is actually sung by a man (but speeded up) from the old garage track: "war and drugs are everywhere ~ and it's getting so hard to breathe the air... now-eeee-aaarr-oooaaah-yeah-wooo-eeee-ooo-roooar-oorooar-yeah, we live as one famileee..." I tried Googling the lyric but got no satisfactory answer... it is not M People's Someday, it far predates that... if anybody has an answer, please leave a comment
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