Warning this post contains soul searching
So it's been about a year since I decided to try and get out of my shell and change things up.
About this time last year I'd just had a week's holiday at home. A week spent mostly on my own where I did some soul searching.
I realised that I had very few friends locally and none to go out with .That the last time I'd been out on a Saturday night was 3 years ago. Having been mugged just before leaving university I d stopped going out after dark where I could help it. Mostly subconsciously. I hadn't been on a date in 8 years again not much opportunity when you don't get out a lot .
Plus my mugger had been a 5 ft something female drug addict armed with a broken bottle s which had given me issues with going out but also meeting females. Plus it had shaken my confidence as a bloke being mugged by a female doesn't help your ego. Even if you know deep down that someone hopped up on drugs and prepared to gouge your face we with a broken bottle is going to be a challenge whatever your size.
I hadn't been on holiday for a while since my holiday company reserved right to Chuck overweight people off the coach.i just couldn't risk the embarrassment.
So it's a year later not having been out to London for a night out I'm now a regular for nights out in London.
I 've made some great new friends. Which have been a lifeline. Last Halloween I went out on my own Fed up of being stuck inside with no one to do things with. This year I'm hosting a meet up..
So 've lost over 2 stone, learnt to drive , changed jobs in an upward direction. Despite being petrified no one would employ me because I'm too fat. Mostly down to my dad telling me at the age of around 20 that no one would employ fat people as they were fat and useless. He was trying to encourage me to lose weight in his own way.
Lots of changes my weight is the last barrier I need to deal with.
I was at event recently last night in fact and I had a lot of time to think when I was on my own . I'm never going to be one of the sexy beautiful people. Is it worth trying , will I ever find someone , am i destined to remain alone.
I 've tried dating this past year and been on about 8 first dates and one second date. The second date I was really hoping would turn into a third. With someone who I thought it might work out with . This possibility since December got me through a lot of first dates which didn't get anywhere. However months of hope were dashed last Thursday.
Modern internet dating is cruel . You can chat with someone for weeks even months. Then first date and they don't like the look of you and that is it. No more contact in a lot of cases, not even a sorry there's no chemistry.
I have come to somewhat of a dead end. I've exhausted my possible contacts online and emailing another 40 or 50 women hoping to strike a rapport seems daunting at this point.
As for meeting someone in an another way I tend to automatically friend zone my female acquaintances convinced that they don't find me attractive. If they did they'd probably have to use a skywriter to get my attention.
As for meeting someone in a club my lack of confidence combines with my chivalrous bent. I do sometimes wish i was a bit more of a cad or at least more confident.
I am kind of stuck on what to do next. Part me is considering giving it all up.That there is no point and that no will ever find me attractive
There is one possibility Club Indulge which is apparently for larger folk or though I suspect it is mostly for BBW . i'm a little scared of the idea of going it alone and as a last resort that either I still wont find someone or i will bottle it and not talk to anyone
Sunday, 29 September 2013
Monday, 23 September 2013
A life on the Ocean Wave - International Talk Like a Pirate Day at Bar & Co
This was a very pleasant evening that could have been a great one.
First the negatives , despite being in Time Out only a couple of dozen people attended by the time I left. Secondly the first DJ who was one of the DJ 's who plays want they want despite requests and had decided that 3am chill out music was the way to fill the dance floor. Given that she'd had a couple of dozen people to work with and they were making requests it should have been easy . Give people what they've requested and people are going to dance .
Thirdly at a very early part of the evening I recieved a it's not me it's you text from someone I thought I'd had reasonable chance of establishing a relationship and previously had chemistry with. Not really helped the fact that it was very practical if not tactful and was along the lines of "it's mostly you." This meant that the night would have to have had free rum and real mermaids to cheer me up and allow me to have a good time. However the company was pleasant and the second DJ took my request and played Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi a song guaranteed to cheer me up and get me on the dance floor. (pirate boots are very good for pivoting and heel tapping by the way ) Other song guranteed to have the same effect are "wake me up me up before you go go " by Wham and "Don't stop me now" by Queen what can i say I'm a child of the 80's .
Anyway the evening was partially saved by the company very pleasant and fun and we must have made a fine sight travelling in convoy in costume from Euston. We chatted with some of the other attendees . One who i met as a Gypsy at Dark Circus two nights later. It's a small world. The stunning views and the location a genuine converted sailing ship of some kind possibly a large sailing barge.
Oh the shark babe has such pretty teeth, dear And he shows them pearly white 12th September It's Your Funeral
It's Your Funeral was the absolute opposite of my previous spur of the moment event. I'd wanted to go on a previous occasion bit was put off by the time it would take to get there according to the National Rail website, over an hour from Euston to Bethnal Green. As a resident of Outer Greater North London zone 27 or Watford as us locals call it my geographical knowledge of London is still growing. I really wanted to try this event so investigated further and found the websites estimate included over an hour to get from Euston to Liverpool Street possibly by crawling .
Now knowing that all i needed to do was get on the Central line I set off. All I knew was that it was similar in some way to the New Orleans Jazz style funeral, mourning as a celebration rather than a sad event. What it turned out to be was good ole I suppose cabaret or maybe vaudeville mostly themed around the Funeral of the great but unlamented Jack the Ripper
First up was the suitably creepy compere Bang Crosby to introduce the acts
The first act was a mime a creepy monochrome monster of a mime. Not bad mimes are creepy even when they're not trying so one that's actually trying to be creepy was particularly effective.
Next up we had a songstress Carmen Mon Oxide who had a wonderful voice
Then we had a very random act. A window washer who to strains of George Fornby proceeded to down the contents of his windowlene bottles having mimed washing some windows. This ability to consume large amounts of liquids in a short space of time must be a staple of cabaret as I saw Chrisylis do something this time with "a bottle of wine" while dressed as a pig at Dark Circus. I guess it's just packaged differently and I suppose the mock suicide attempt fitted with the macabre theme. I've seen an act somewhere possibly from a film with a man and a broom allegedly sweeping the stage and then turning it into an act. Answers on a postcard if you can tell me where.... I guess the idea here was the same something to fill a gap while there was a costume change or something happening behind the scenes. Well I hope this was the case other wise the poor lad really needs to work on his act.
Next up we had the Late Night Shop cabaret collective who I could easily follow round London just going to events they're attending formy alternative fix. having seen them 2 or maybe 3 times if it was them doing a really creepy lending library at Rumpus.
They did a comic skit with Jack the Ripper stalking a prostitute complete with authentic period teeth .It had a feel of a silent movie or mime because of the actors movements big telegraphed and very amusing . With Jack pulling various implements out of his bag being caught doing so and then having to mime hammering down the floor boards or pull out his own teeth with pliers in order to allay the suspicions of his intended victim. He succeeds in murdering her and disembowels her pulling out a string of sausages.
We then had a dramatic monologue by Tom Baker who peformed it with verve, elan and applomb. He gave us with great stye the Ballad of Mad Carew or The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God .
You may have heard the opening words before I have although I'm not sure how or when. Having thought about it I may have heard it playe on a loop long with such things as Albert on the Lion on my radio headset on a flight somewhere.
There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu, There’s a little marble cross below the town; There’s a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew, And the Yellow God forever gazes down
It is set in Nepal ("to the north of Kathmandu"), during the British Raj and tells the tale of a wild young officer known as "Mad Carew", who steals the "green eye" of a "yellow god" (presumably an emerald in a gold statue) in order to impress his beloved. He is wounded in the course of the robbery, and later murdered, presumably by a devotee of the god for the theft, who returns the jewel to the idol
Tom Baker would have been fine on his own but his words were given dramatic emphasis by a lady playing that most difficult of instruments a saw. Her accompaniment was perfectly timed and had just the right emphasis and the two of them were probably the best act of the evening
At some point we also had a rendition of Mack the Knife , actually I believe it was while waiting for the main act to start right at the beginning. We also had the Rum Buffalo Funeral Band
playing musc on and off throguhout the night as an accompaniment to when Jacks coffin arrived and then at interval throughout the evening.
We also had Snake Fervour another act which I saw similar at Dark Circus which obviously has a very high pain threshold and a grim determination to let everyone know about it. It was a hide behind the sofa peek through your fingers act . She proceeded to stub cigarettes out on her tongue walk on razor blades and hang a heavy bag off her self via hooks inserted in parts of her face. Not something to watch with you local health and safety officer.
Next we had Jaz Delorean who handled the accordion with skill and half hadme wanting to rush out and buy one of my own.
He proceeded to put a "spell on us" before playing us a ballard of losing his love to a Gypsy King. His voice was so gravelly Network Rail could use it to resurface their trackbed
Mary Beth Morossa was up next. A story teller, performance artist, dancer difficult to categorise. She to a taped monologue telling us the Story of Edward and Virginna proceded
to act out of a young girl walking home at night , a shadowy figure stalking her, their encounter and it's tragic end. All via the medium of dance the encounter was equated to a tango it's movements more macarbe than sensual. You could almost see the london fog and her shoes evoked high heels on cobbles as she tap danced. Another standout performance.
The last performance I saw before I had to make a mad dash for the underground was the Fabulous Bakewell Boys . (a play on the fabulous Baker Boys) They were two comedians from oop North possibly Yorkshire but Bakewell is in Derbyshire so I'm not too sure. For some reason they had on burberry balaclavas?? or some kind of mask. They're comedy was very amusing and all the better for avoiding trying to be rude. Their act was two nice but dim Northern lads. An eccles cake short of a picnic perhaps . They were very amusing with a comedy fire eaters act and the odd comic song.
The night was more macabre comedy than actual New Orleans style funeral but all the better for it.
If the opportunity arises I will definitely be going again even if i have to suggest it on meetup myself
I think this may be one that like Dark Circus will become a regular feature on the calendar.
the l
Now knowing that all i needed to do was get on the Central line I set off. All I knew was that it was similar in some way to the New Orleans Jazz style funeral, mourning as a celebration rather than a sad event. What it turned out to be was good ole I suppose cabaret or maybe vaudeville mostly themed around the Funeral of the great but unlamented Jack the Ripper
First up was the suitably creepy compere Bang Crosby to introduce the acts
Next up we had a songstress Carmen Mon Oxide who had a wonderful voice
Then we had a very random act. A window washer who to strains of George Fornby proceeded to down the contents of his windowlene bottles having mimed washing some windows. This ability to consume large amounts of liquids in a short space of time must be a staple of cabaret as I saw Chrisylis do something this time with "a bottle of wine" while dressed as a pig at Dark Circus. I guess it's just packaged differently and I suppose the mock suicide attempt fitted with the macabre theme. I've seen an act somewhere possibly from a film with a man and a broom allegedly sweeping the stage and then turning it into an act. Answers on a postcard if you can tell me where.... I guess the idea here was the same something to fill a gap while there was a costume change or something happening behind the scenes. Well I hope this was the case other wise the poor lad really needs to work on his act.
Next up we had the Late Night Shop cabaret collective who I could easily follow round London just going to events they're attending formy alternative fix. having seen them 2 or maybe 3 times if it was them doing a really creepy lending library at Rumpus.
They did a comic skit with Jack the Ripper stalking a prostitute complete with authentic period teeth .It had a feel of a silent movie or mime because of the actors movements big telegraphed and very amusing . With Jack pulling various implements out of his bag being caught doing so and then having to mime hammering down the floor boards or pull out his own teeth with pliers in order to allay the suspicions of his intended victim. He succeeds in murdering her and disembowels her pulling out a string of sausages.
We then had a dramatic monologue by Tom Baker who peformed it with verve, elan and applomb. He gave us with great stye the Ballad of Mad Carew or The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God .
You may have heard the opening words before I have although I'm not sure how or when. Having thought about it I may have heard it playe on a loop long with such things as Albert on the Lion on my radio headset on a flight somewhere.
It is set in Nepal ("to the north of Kathmandu"), during the British Raj and tells the tale of a wild young officer known as "Mad Carew", who steals the "green eye" of a "yellow god" (presumably an emerald in a gold statue) in order to impress his beloved. He is wounded in the course of the robbery, and later murdered, presumably by a devotee of the god for the theft, who returns the jewel to the idol
Tom Baker would have been fine on his own but his words were given dramatic emphasis by a lady playing that most difficult of instruments a saw. Her accompaniment was perfectly timed and had just the right emphasis and the two of them were probably the best act of the evening
At some point we also had a rendition of Mack the Knife , actually I believe it was while waiting for the main act to start right at the beginning. We also had the Rum Buffalo Funeral Band
playing musc on and off throguhout the night as an accompaniment to when Jacks coffin arrived and then at interval throughout the evening.
We also had Snake Fervour another act which I saw similar at Dark Circus which obviously has a very high pain threshold and a grim determination to let everyone know about it. It was a hide behind the sofa peek through your fingers act . She proceeded to stub cigarettes out on her tongue walk on razor blades and hang a heavy bag off her self via hooks inserted in parts of her face. Not something to watch with you local health and safety officer.
Next we had Jaz Delorean who handled the accordion with skill and half hadme wanting to rush out and buy one of my own.
He proceeded to put a "spell on us" before playing us a ballard of losing his love to a Gypsy King. His voice was so gravelly Network Rail could use it to resurface their trackbed
Mary Beth Morossa was up next. A story teller, performance artist, dancer difficult to categorise. She to a taped monologue telling us the Story of Edward and Virginna proceded
to act out of a young girl walking home at night , a shadowy figure stalking her, their encounter and it's tragic end. All via the medium of dance the encounter was equated to a tango it's movements more macarbe than sensual. You could almost see the london fog and her shoes evoked high heels on cobbles as she tap danced. Another standout performance.
The last performance I saw before I had to make a mad dash for the underground was the Fabulous Bakewell Boys . (a play on the fabulous Baker Boys) They were two comedians from oop North possibly Yorkshire but Bakewell is in Derbyshire so I'm not too sure. For some reason they had on burberry balaclavas?? or some kind of mask. They're comedy was very amusing and all the better for avoiding trying to be rude. Their act was two nice but dim Northern lads. An eccles cake short of a picnic perhaps . They were very amusing with a comedy fire eaters act and the odd comic song.
The night was more macabre comedy than actual New Orleans style funeral but all the better for it.
If the opportunity arises I will definitely be going again even if i have to suggest it on meetup myself
I think this may be one that like Dark Circus will become a regular feature on the calendar.
the l
Velvet Tongue
This was a rather spur of the moment decision . I'd spent the weekend and August had been a quiet period for my adventures . As regular followers of my blog might have noticed.. I know there's at least one of you. So is probably mentally editing this as she reads :) (I blame the kindle.)
My day had not been going well as with an uncanny sense of timing I'd decided to combine breaking in some new boots with work giving a pedometer to all staff as a healthy living promotion.one which may be slightly floored as they have introduced a competitive element but minimal oversight. I suspect several staffs dogs will be getting a new collar accessory over the coming weeks. Personally i wil treat it as an opportunity to do more exercise . To cut a long story short by the time work finished I'd acquired 3 blisters and a limp. So I decided to head for home rather than hop on a train for a change of shoes. Having missed Herts pride at the weekend and having regretted it having heard great things about it I decided to head out.
Having had dinner some painkillers some plasters and a change of shoes I set off with 40 minutes to get from my closest station to Shoreditch.The gods of transport smiled on me and a little judicious use of online bus planners meant I made it to Bar Kick by 7.35.
Bar Kick was a I guess a table football bar. It had a vague continental cafe bar feel. Reinforced by the fact they sold Orangina. However having followed a chalked notice and slipped behind a curtain I entered a whole different world. As my money was taken by a lady in nipple tassels I wondered if the bar patrons knew what was happening beneath their feet.
The actor kicked off with a man doing a reverse cross dressing striptease transforming from a naked man to a fully dressed women.It was well done in time to the music and with subtle touches of humour. Alas twas the highlight of the evening
You know how their are comedians who equate being rude with being funny well this show equated being naked with being erotic. Some comedians get away with it and I'm sure some acts do to alas their weren't any in that night.
We had a couple of clothed acts . A diary reading Sorry an erotic reading by some guy which ran too long by a considerable margin and a lady who heavily influenced by cabaret
performed a silly song with the help of 4 audience members. The crux of her act was that in English Whoopie can mean sex and also a whoopie cushion. So she invited members to volunteer to help her make whoopie.
We also had a brace of transexuals . Whose act was basically suprise I'm not a man anymore!! The first was apparently a Jewish man Lazlo Perlman he came on and proceeded to seek to confirm every positive stereotype of the wisecracking new york jew. He gave out donuts to all the Jews in the audience and thenwhen those ran out to anyone who wanted one. He then told us stories of his childhood and his mum . Who would seem to have her picture next to the dictionnary definition of sexual liberation. He told us some other stories of his life growing up as a Jew . He was quite amusing and gradually removed his clothing for his big reveal that he was no longer a man.
The other transexual recited a poem about "no one loving a fairy when she's forty " it was quite tragic really
This was in the second half which was open mike time. The amateurs were a mixed bunch including a german who told a story about baking being racist and had a carrot up his ass which he used to stir his drink.
A man who very matter factedly told us he was a sadist and recited us some poems which were fairly brutal.
The evening was I suppose all embracing and it was nice to provide people with a safe environment the felt they could share in but I dont think I'll be going back for round 2
My day had not been going well as with an uncanny sense of timing I'd decided to combine breaking in some new boots with work giving a pedometer to all staff as a healthy living promotion.one which may be slightly floored as they have introduced a competitive element but minimal oversight. I suspect several staffs dogs will be getting a new collar accessory over the coming weeks. Personally i wil treat it as an opportunity to do more exercise . To cut a long story short by the time work finished I'd acquired 3 blisters and a limp. So I decided to head for home rather than hop on a train for a change of shoes. Having missed Herts pride at the weekend and having regretted it having heard great things about it I decided to head out.
Having had dinner some painkillers some plasters and a change of shoes I set off with 40 minutes to get from my closest station to Shoreditch.The gods of transport smiled on me and a little judicious use of online bus planners meant I made it to Bar Kick by 7.35.
Bar Kick was a I guess a table football bar. It had a vague continental cafe bar feel. Reinforced by the fact they sold Orangina. However having followed a chalked notice and slipped behind a curtain I entered a whole different world. As my money was taken by a lady in nipple tassels I wondered if the bar patrons knew what was happening beneath their feet.
The actor kicked off with a man doing a reverse cross dressing striptease transforming from a naked man to a fully dressed women.It was well done in time to the music and with subtle touches of humour. Alas twas the highlight of the evening
You know how their are comedians who equate being rude with being funny well this show equated being naked with being erotic. Some comedians get away with it and I'm sure some acts do to alas their weren't any in that night.
We had a couple of clothed acts . A diary reading Sorry an erotic reading by some guy which ran too long by a considerable margin and a lady who heavily influenced by cabaret
performed a silly song with the help of 4 audience members. The crux of her act was that in English Whoopie can mean sex and also a whoopie cushion. So she invited members to volunteer to help her make whoopie.
We also had a brace of transexuals . Whose act was basically suprise I'm not a man anymore!! The first was apparently a Jewish man Lazlo Perlman he came on and proceeded to seek to confirm every positive stereotype of the wisecracking new york jew. He gave out donuts to all the Jews in the audience and thenwhen those ran out to anyone who wanted one. He then told us stories of his childhood and his mum . Who would seem to have her picture next to the dictionnary definition of sexual liberation. He told us some other stories of his life growing up as a Jew . He was quite amusing and gradually removed his clothing for his big reveal that he was no longer a man.
The other transexual recited a poem about "no one loving a fairy when she's forty " it was quite tragic really
This was in the second half which was open mike time. The amateurs were a mixed bunch including a german who told a story about baking being racist and had a carrot up his ass which he used to stir his drink.
A man who very matter factedly told us he was a sadist and recited us some poems which were fairly brutal.
The evening was I suppose all embracing and it was nice to provide people with a safe environment the felt they could share in but I dont think I'll be going back for round 2
Tuesday, 6 August 2013
Musical Bingo
Apart from the kids song I am stumped on a song relating to bingo. Suggestions on a post card please.
Now my previous exposure to musical bingo had been at a local pub competing for a pint glass full of pound coins. So I had the basic premise you heard a song and ticked it off your bingo card.
However I'd heard interesting things about this version that made the one I'd played seem like a pale imitation, a greying faded photo copy.
So work having finished I hopped on the train and headed for Euston and then Old street. This was my first venture into Shoreditch proper. It turned out I was a little early and they weren't letting people in . So I decided to wander round Shoreditch. More specifically Box park which had been recently on the Apprentice. As the idea had been suggested as a solution to the relocation of Watford market I was particularly interested..
Now Box Park seems a very good place to find an ethically sourced , hand crafted statue of an elephant, or vintage fashion but I find it difficult to visualise of someone buying 3 pounds of spuds from a shipping container.
Anyway back to the musical bingo. The event was at a basement basement bar Concrete and I could not accuse them of false advertising . There was a lot of concrete and exposed ducting. It was sods law that on one of the hottest days of the year so far. I was spending the evening in a slightly damp windowless basement .
We were still a little early so we got a sneak peak at the gospel choir that was doing round 2. The decor was sort of Italian bistro crossed with military bunker. Lots of as i mentioned before concrete and also exposed pipework. Our table was a long plywood one with a couple of communal benches which wouldn't have looked out of place in a soup kitchen but is probably cutting edge shabby chic.
Now the bingo rounds were themed , the three rounds were weather, religion and music from round the world. Prizes were for one line , two lines , three lines and full house.
There was a hostess compering, whose name escapes me but apparently there are 3 on rotation who take it in turn. For each round she changed into an appropriate costume ranging from nun to holiday maker.
Musical Bingo is like the name says on the tin bingo with music what added the fun factor was what happened when you got a line especially if you drew with someone else who had a line. i cant remember all the various challenges but they included chubby bunnies, a game which consisted to stuffing more and more marshmallows into your mouth and repeating the phrase chubby bunnies. One guy in this round must have been part hamster as he managed to put away a surprising amount of marshmallows before being declared the winner. Another round consisted of two people being given lipstick and told to kiss as many people as possible. One guy was very enthusiastic if not particularly accurate as he kissed the tops of people's heads and ears, sadly without leaving a lipstick mark. In the end it didn't make much difference as the winner was decided by the crowd yelling out if they'd been kissed
The crowd got in the spirit of it and by the end people were singing along and dancing while sitting down on their benches . The gospel choir was very good and their version of living on a prayer by Bon Jovi was well recieved amongst others. Unfortunately i had to dash off to Euston so missed one of group winning the full House on the last round and getting the grand prize of a deep fat fryer on the hottest day of the year so far!!!
Now my previous exposure to musical bingo had been at a local pub competing for a pint glass full of pound coins. So I had the basic premise you heard a song and ticked it off your bingo card.
However I'd heard interesting things about this version that made the one I'd played seem like a pale imitation, a greying faded photo copy.
So work having finished I hopped on the train and headed for Euston and then Old street. This was my first venture into Shoreditch proper. It turned out I was a little early and they weren't letting people in . So I decided to wander round Shoreditch. More specifically Box park which had been recently on the Apprentice. As the idea had been suggested as a solution to the relocation of Watford market I was particularly interested..
Now Box Park seems a very good place to find an ethically sourced , hand crafted statue of an elephant, or vintage fashion but I find it difficult to visualise of someone buying 3 pounds of spuds from a shipping container.
Anyway back to the musical bingo. The event was at a basement basement bar Concrete and I could not accuse them of false advertising . There was a lot of concrete and exposed ducting. It was sods law that on one of the hottest days of the year so far. I was spending the evening in a slightly damp windowless basement .
We were still a little early so we got a sneak peak at the gospel choir that was doing round 2. The decor was sort of Italian bistro crossed with military bunker. Lots of as i mentioned before concrete and also exposed pipework. Our table was a long plywood one with a couple of communal benches which wouldn't have looked out of place in a soup kitchen but is probably cutting edge shabby chic.
Now the bingo rounds were themed , the three rounds were weather, religion and music from round the world. Prizes were for one line , two lines , three lines and full house.
There was a hostess compering, whose name escapes me but apparently there are 3 on rotation who take it in turn. For each round she changed into an appropriate costume ranging from nun to holiday maker.
Musical Bingo is like the name says on the tin bingo with music what added the fun factor was what happened when you got a line especially if you drew with someone else who had a line. i cant remember all the various challenges but they included chubby bunnies, a game which consisted to stuffing more and more marshmallows into your mouth and repeating the phrase chubby bunnies. One guy in this round must have been part hamster as he managed to put away a surprising amount of marshmallows before being declared the winner. Another round consisted of two people being given lipstick and told to kiss as many people as possible. One guy was very enthusiastic if not particularly accurate as he kissed the tops of people's heads and ears, sadly without leaving a lipstick mark. In the end it didn't make much difference as the winner was decided by the crowd yelling out if they'd been kissed
The crowd got in the spirit of it and by the end people were singing along and dancing while sitting down on their benches . The gospel choir was very good and their version of living on a prayer by Bon Jovi was well recieved amongst others. Unfortunately i had to dash off to Euston so missed one of group winning the full House on the last round and getting the grand prize of a deep fat fryer on the hottest day of the year so far!!!
Saturday, 3 August 2013
We decided to whip in and pick up some chow at the old home fill er up and keep on truckin cafe -Truck Stop
In a slight deviation to the normally advertised programming I headed out with meet up to a food themed event . And a very pleasant diversion it was too. Truck Stop is not as you might think from the name anything to do with artery clogging fried food to keep our truckers rolling through the night served at a tired and slightly run down service station next to a claw machine with a random selection of stuffed animals from last year's summer blockbusters which you need to be Derren Brown to have the slightest need to obtain.
No Truck Stop happened in the fairly pristine location of Canary Wharf or more accurately Wood Wharf . Wood Wharf as the name implies was historically used for the storage of timber and the repairing of ships. This lasted until the 1970's . Currently the 20 acre site is occupied by a mix of light industrial buildings and vacant or derelict land. Plans are afoot to develop it but apparently not until other office developments in the area are full. Thank you Wikipedia. Wikipedia entry a side the semi island was a lovely tranquil location.
The bit Truck Stop was occupying was a stretch of tarmac presumably a car park normally surrounded by some unfeasibly verdant grass. This we found was due to some very enthusiastic gardening staff with either hoses or sprinklers. So despite being the hottest day of the year . The grass was sodden and in some places positively marshy. Despite this it was crowded with people . Either that or we managed to pick the only spot in permanent shade which hadn't dried out.
The damp clothing was compensated for by being right next to a group called the Trouble Notes which provided a very pleasant soundtrack to our evening.
After that slight deviation into the historical and geographical the reason we were there . The trucks ,Truck Stop is a food festival where all the vendors must sell there food from a truck or van or in one case horsebox
Now the events iconography is unashamedly American however the undoubted hero of the event is very definitely French. The Citroen H van , you might not know the name but it's the corrugated one with the funny nose. You've got it the stalwart of French farmers and street markets seems to have taken to the street food scene like a duck to water or a canard a l 'eau. Other vendors had converted ice cream vans and former USA army ambulances.
Which brings us to the food.. Having wandered round the whole site I decided on mother cluckers as the source of my dinner and very nice chicken burger it was too succulent and plenty of it. . The bread could have been better. Maybe next time I'll go for the popcorn chicken bites.
Now where the vendors have missed a trick at an event like this is people can only handle 1 or maybe 2 mains if they're very hungry. Now a nice big filling value for money meal makes sense if you're pitched up on your own or with a couple of other vendors. Ho w ever where there is so much choice tapas style nibbles would have tempted people back for multiple bites at the street food cherry. .
On top of the chicken burger I had bbq corn on the cob and some of Mama s jerk station s plantain sold from the back of a milk float. My choices mainly influenced by the small portion sizes .
Another category largely overlooked was desert fortunately Fishdog selling from what else a Citroen H van had stepped into the breech with some very tasty churros style doughnuts. With a very tasty salted caramel sauce that you could dip them in or quite easily have eaten up with a spoon.
A quick mention of the drink . Your online booking got you 10 truck stop dollars. Given that the ticket was 10 pound plus online booking fee you pretty much got your money back in alcohol. Beers were mostly a fiver ant the pint sized festival sized cocktails were a tenner. I decide to try my first ever mojito and very refreshing it was on a hot day.
Truck stop is definitely worth a second visit and it will be back on the first Thursday and Friday of September.
It was a very pleasant evening and food buying finished we sat on the grass late into the evening chatting , admiring the sun glinting off canary wharf and later on the twinkling off the buildings lights , listening to the music and inhaling the stray scents of food as they drifted our way and making the most of a great summer evening.
It seemed a shame that it wasn't Friday and we had to drag ourselves back to reality and go to work the next day.
Goodbye to the circus We hope you enjoyed the show Now it's nearly at the end But it will be back, you know
So Dark Circus, I got a wee bit lost finding the Princess Louise which was where we were going to meet. Which turned out to be one of those bars that is subdivided into sections .a bit like the cheese holder in trivial pursuit.
Despite this I was still early . Having not been brave enough to venture out from the suburbs in costume I decided to seek out the toilets to complete my transformation. I'd decided dark circus meant , circus with a twist so my converted red lab coat (what industry needs red lab coats) was teamed with lion face paint to create a human tamer costume, so armed with a poundland mirror a container formerly containing chinese takeaway ( for the hot water ) and a picture printed off the internet for guidance and inspiration, I disappeared into a cubicle to transform myself a bit like a very warped version of superman.
With slight trepidation I ventured back upstairs to the main bar. Spotting a group in circus attire I ventured over to join them only to discover after 5 minutes conversation including . Why a lion /ringmaster, the answer to which was the not very original why not . It turned out they weren't with meet up but their for some ones birthday.
Having finally spotted some one I recognised I prowled over to the rest of the group.Also in a variety of circus costumes. We headed over to the Bloomsbury Ballroom a very nice art deco building.
Now I had . A great night I suspect that it was more down to a) the company b) the fact I was I n facepaint which allowed my inner exhibitionist come out to play. I certainly wouldn't have spent quite so much time spinning round a pole in the centre of the venue if I was in plain clothes or squeezed into a cage near one wall. I also had my photo taken various times quite easily into double figures by various people.
To be honest the cocktails were nice but not spectacular. The entertainment was good particularly the sword shallower and the compere could have stepped out cabaret cabaret.
For me however I think the evening was made by the other people who had made the effort, I guess the people attracted by the torture garden being joint organisers are used to making a bit of an effort. Also the size of the hall meant adequate room for dancing. Towards the end of the evening I discovered a completely new room with a bar at the back of the main room which intriguingly had two cargo nets and a rocking horse but by the point of the evening where I found it was just another bar. This must have been where they were doing the classes in costume makeup but their was no sign by the time I got in there.
On my next visit I must check it out earlier in the evening .
The evening drew to a close and the bouncers started to shoo us out . Fortunately there was a long queue for the cloak room which gave me time to De lion myself before with some make up wipes while I waited.
I was planning to venture home by night bus for the first time so didn't want to stand out too much . Fortunately the bus stop was quite near by in red lion square a location I was previously aware of because of work. Having had to venture up to holborn a coup l e of times for co n references in a building opposite. On my way to the bus stop I discovered a 24hr convenience shop and a McDonald's that were open. Given that holborn seems quite quiet after dark where they get enough customers from to make it worth there while is a mystery. But it was lucky for me as it yielded an orange juice from maccy d' s and when I staggered round the corner a flapjack from the convenience shop. I stepped onto the bus which wasn't as scary as I'd imagined and an hour later I was in Stanmore which is unfortunately the closest I can get to Watford. By night bus. I think I feel a letter to Boris coming on . For some odd reason stanmore station has a taxi office perfect you think which is indeed open in the wee small hours , the light is on the desk is staffed. However it would seem that the staff remain on duty solely to tell people that there aren't any taxis to 6am a job which could be achieved equally well by a sign post . Having been back to stanmore a couple of times now I have learnt that there are taxi firms at bushey (with no night bus) wh I ch have taxis at this time of morning between 4.30-6am and in stanmore itself . Stanmore station terminus to a night bus route h as instead rather than the oasis of a open and operating taxi company a cruel mirage which lures you in with a friendly light only to dash you on the rocks like a Cornish wrecker operating a fake lighthouse.
Anyway the taxi arrived from bushey and I got home and collapsed fortunately at this point face paint free. My feet did ache some from wearing my pirate boots. This time as ringmaster boots a slight heel makes a big difference to the feet and I can only imagine the agony that you ladies must suffer in your stilettos, kitten heels and other permutations of female foot torture inflicted on you by society and the fashion industry.
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