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ventaYesterday I popped round to visit ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ebee and met a new friend. The friend was called Putney and, when I left Ebee's, he decided to accompany me on my journey up to Finsbury Park to join ChrisC at the Rise free festival.
Putney and I enjoying a plate of jerk chicken and rice at Rise:
Honestly, if you want to make friends, take an inflatable panda out with you. This is London, stoically silent London in which no one speaks to anyone. But if you have an anthropomorphic balloon suddenly everyone is your friend.
On the tube to Finsbury Park, a family of kids was all over him, wanting to pat him and play with him - which is understandable. However, grown-ups - groups, couples, individuals - stopping me on the street to pat him and talk about him was more of a surprise. When a huge, burly skin-head stopped ChrisC and I so he could stroke Putney and ask his name I was sorely tempted to look him straight in the eye and say "it's not a real panda, it's a balloon". (I didn't, of course, as I'd have hated to hurt Putney's feelings.)
Lots of people wanted to know what he ate, whether he was expensive to keep, whether he was dangerous. One chap asked Putney if he fancied a shag (I said firmly that I didn't think he was that kind of panda).
While we watched the skaters on the concrete ramps, Putney stared contentedly into the distance. An explosion of laughter erupted behind us. "I thought that was a really weird dog!" a guy explained. "She said it wasn't real, but then it moved and I'm like it is a weird dog...". Yes. No more drugs for that man.
Incidentally, Putney seems to be a reggae panda. Having watched fairly unmoved during CSS's set, he properly got his boogie on when Jimmy Cliff came on stage. I was finishing off the jerk chicken, but Putney was grooving on down on the end of his string.
On the way home, I carried him to avoid people kicking him on the tube. We walked back to ChrisC's house with the cries of "Yay! Kung-fu Panda!" following us up the road.
ebee and met a new friend. The friend was called Putney and, when I left Ebee's, he decided to accompany me on my journey up to Finsbury Park to join ChrisC at the Rise free festival.Putney and I enjoying a plate of jerk chicken and rice at Rise:
Honestly, if you want to make friends, take an inflatable panda out with you. This is London, stoically silent London in which no one speaks to anyone. But if you have an anthropomorphic balloon suddenly everyone is your friend.
On the tube to Finsbury Park, a family of kids was all over him, wanting to pat him and play with him - which is understandable. However, grown-ups - groups, couples, individuals - stopping me on the street to pat him and talk about him was more of a surprise. When a huge, burly skin-head stopped ChrisC and I so he could stroke Putney and ask his name I was sorely tempted to look him straight in the eye and say "it's not a real panda, it's a balloon". (I didn't, of course, as I'd have hated to hurt Putney's feelings.)
Lots of people wanted to know what he ate, whether he was expensive to keep, whether he was dangerous. One chap asked Putney if he fancied a shag (I said firmly that I didn't think he was that kind of panda).
While we watched the skaters on the concrete ramps, Putney stared contentedly into the distance. An explosion of laughter erupted behind us. "I thought that was a really weird dog!" a guy explained. "She said it wasn't real, but then it moved and I'm like it is a weird dog...". Yes. No more drugs for that man.
Incidentally, Putney seems to be a reggae panda. Having watched fairly unmoved during CSS's set, he properly got his boogie on when Jimmy Cliff came on stage. I was finishing off the jerk chicken, but Putney was grooving on down on the end of his string.
On the way home, I carried him to avoid people kicking him on the tube. We walked back to ChrisC's house with the cries of "Yay! Kung-fu Panda!" following us up the road.
