Some people are just nice
Nov. 17th, 2017 04:13 pm( Read more... )
See? All over London there are people who are being given ample opportunities to be dicks, and are not taking them and are instead being nice people.
I have two problems. Well, I have many. But there are two of a culinary nature, on which I hope some kitchenly types might offer advice.
1. Owing to the choux wreath I have an imperial shitload of leftover eggwhites.
2. I am going to a neighbour for dinner tomorrow[*] and am requested to bring a pudding.
[*] Yeah, a neighbour. Not a friend who lives nearby, an actual neighbour whom I have only met as a result of the geographical proximity in our dwellings. Yeah, in London. No, I didn't think that was allowed either.
Badge win. My badge (which I'm wearing as part of a TfL trial, to advertise that I need a seat on the tube) demonstrably worked at least twice today!
( Seats on offer... )My journey in this morning (which was hilarious in its own right, due to failed signals and misinformation - in place of one Central line train I took three Districts, two Piccadillys, a Victoria and a Central and was monstrously late for work) featured some definite badge events...
A man leapt from his seat as I boarded the tube. And it was District, which means no step to board, so I think the badge would be the only indication that I'm walking-impaired. I felt rather guilty, as he was holding a baby, but he assured me it was fine and handed the baby off to someone else (I assume she was with him...)
On one of the other tubes, a guy got up but without obviously looking at me, so I'm not sure he hadn't just decided to stand up anyway. On another, one of the other standees offered to go and ask for a seat for me (I declined her offer). And on at least another two tubes people ignored me totally - though I think I perhaps could have positioned myself better to be more visible.
This evening, a lady beckoned me over to take a seat she would presumably otherwise have taken herself. Again, I think only the badge would suggest I had any more need of a seat than she did.
So I'd say this badge is definitely working well for me today!
Last Christmas, I got an unexpected text message from
leathellin: she was in London, did I want to meet up (I think we went and ate pizza, but that's not important right now).
She'd been in town the previous evening for some sort of Christmas extravaganza organised by Robin Ince and Brian Cox. It all sounded like fun. Should she get tickets for us when she bought next year's? Yes please, we said.
( Brian and Robin's Christmas Compendium of Reason )Ince and Cox announced that - apparently because they've burned through all their favours now - there wouldn't be a Christmas Compendium in 2016. On Saturday, ChrisC spotted that they'd lied. Tickets are on sale, I highly recommend it.
As I mentioned in my Whitby write-up, at some stage
maviscruet offered me a glass of Not Port.
Saturday started well, with brunch in a local cafe.
( Best breakfast ever )We wombled around the independent record labels' fair in Spitalfields - and bloody hell was it busy. It seemed also to incorporate all of London's independent brewers (beer is very like records) and the place was heaving. And then we moved on...
( New Bedford Rising )Yesterday, quite early on, there were sums going on in our house. Let's see, 9 o'clock, one and half miles, say five minutes a mile absolute tops...
Just before 9.10 we were in the road outside, ready to cheer on those running in the Ealing half-marathon.
Sometimes, of a evening, ChrisC and I leave work at similar times and walk towards each other with the intention of meeting up for a beverage. The obvious way to do this is down Oxford Street, but that's so crowded it's easy to miss each other (not to mention the acrimonious "but why would you even be on the north side?" argument). Accordingly we've evolved a wiggly route through Soho.
We usually bump into each other not far from what Google maps calls Denmark Street and everyone else calls Tin Pan Alley. Around there is a restaurant called Flat Iron, which we'd had recommended, but which has always has a waiting time of over two hours when we've enquired. But early on Monday, we walked in and found empty tables.
( Flat Iron )This morning, outside my flat, a small dinosaur was having a tantrum. A mouse was carrying a guitar on its back. A superhero was having some sort of wardrobe malfunction fixed by its mum.
I think it's fancy-dress day at Montpelier School :)
As I walked down to the tube, I passed pirates, more superheroes, a cowgirl, and a gratifyingly small number of princesses. Also a tiny Japanese girl wearing a black dress, a massive red bow on top of her head, and carrying a garden broom (I have no idea).
A number of children trailed past wearing the uniform red caps of a different school with a distinct air of martyrdom.
When writing up my day out at the Helen Love gig, I noted that something exciting happened. If you are a London gig-goer, I'd love to hear at what point you recognise this story... Or indeed if you don't.
( Look! )