March 2007 Archives

Virginia was right; I was pissed. In fact, right then, a more accurate description was that I was in denial. I still couldn't accept the fact that I was stuck in camp. I didn't want to deal with it. So when Tony came by to ask if we were setting up my tent again, I sent him off to deal with it on his own.

"But I don't know anything about putting up a tent?" he said. "What if I put the wrong spot?"

"Just put it in the same place it was before," I said. "It's a great spot. Trust me. Besides -- everyone's in camp today. There are a ton of people around who would be happy to give you a hand. I just want to sit for a minute and figure out how the hell we're going to get out of here."

"Okay," he said.

Of course, when he got to my old tent spot, he discovered that Lucy had set up there. After all, I was right; it was a great spot. And, as far as she knew, I wasn't going to be using it, so why not snag it?

Tony probably wisely decided that this wasn't a piece of news I needed to hear right at that moment.

Lucy was hanging up some wet clothes on a line she'd strung beside the tent when Tony showed up. She was surprised but seemed pleased to see him. "Hey, what are you doing back?" she said. "Decided to stay a while? Give planting a try? Did you jump out of the truck as soon as Kent slowed down?"

"Well, not quite," said Tony. "The bridge is out. Kent's back too. We're kind of stuck. Not that I'm not willing to give planting a try. I would have been happy to stay anyway. In fact, since I'm here I wouldn't mind sticking a few trees in the ground if I get the chance. Who knows? It might be the life for me."

"Uh-huh," said Lucy. The line she had hung the clothes on was sagging so she tightened it up a bit.

Tony shifted awkwardly. "I see you moved your tent."

"Yeah. I didn't realise you guys would be coming back."

"The world is full of surprises," said Tony. He shifted the pack on his shoulder. "Kent asked me to set our tent back up. I think we're probably going to be here for a couple more days."

"Uh huh."

"I'm just not sure where I'd put it. Kent said to put it here but..."

"Yeah," she said. "I see. And I've just moved in. It's a problem."

"I don't suppose there's any chance..." said Tony.

"I could move my tent back?" asked Lucy. "It wouldn't make any sense. If I take my tent down then we'll have two tents to put up. The two of you are leaving soon anyway. The simplest thing to do would be to find a new spot for your tent. In fact, why don't you put your tent on my old spot?"

Tony sensed that I would be none too pleased with this plan, but he was in a mood to avoid conflict. After a moment's reflection he decided Lucy's plan was the simplest in the short-term so he agreed.

"Great," she said. "I'll show you where it is."

>> Farts Like Gold: 53

It was Red Nose Day on Friday and someone at work had come up with the idea of having a Formal Friday where we all had to dress up in suits etc. The idea being that everyone contributed a small amount of money (at least £3 per picture) in exchange for taking part and the proceeds would go to Comic Relief, the BBC's charity. Usually most folk at the office wear jeans and tee shirts so this meant a much bigger change to the atmosphere than in some offices, especially as a number of people went a bit over the top and wore tuxedos or evening gowns.

I felt I should be true to my national heritage and so I rented an RCMP uniform and charged people an extra £1 to get their picture taken with the mountie. This was a grand scheme as many ladies in particular were eager to get their picture taken with me and many of them had dressed exquisitely. I felt a bit like a prostitute, but at least a very classy one with well-groomed clients, and definitely a prostitute with a heart of gold - it comes with the mountie outfit.

I took public transport to work that day which was an interesting experience. It's a 25 minute walk from my house to the tube station and almost everyone I encountered along the way made eye contact with me and smiled. Many people commented on how fine I looked or enquired after the presence and well-being of my horse. Several small children in particular were delighted to make my acquaintance.

However, once I entered the tube station it was as if I became invisible. Almost no one noticed me at all. It was an extreme manifestation of the staunch London tube-blindness which allows Londoners to co-exist with all manner of alien beings. Based on my mountie experiences, I'm pretty sure I could travel several laps around the circle line buck-naked without anyone noticing. I certainly think I could have got away with taking a horse with me.

There would have been some practical difficulties, of course. I realised when my father visited that London tubes make no allowances for people with minor infirmities like bad knees. And the planners certainly didn't design the system to make it easy to ride around it on horseback. The ceilings are far too low; there are too many steep steps and narrow escalators, and there is marked shortage of decent pastureland. Still, if I could find away around these practical difficulties, I am confident no one would notice the horse, or at least comment on it.

It's a shame, really. A horse would have added greatly to the verisimilitude of my costume. And in addition to charging people to take my picture, I could have offered pony rides.

My contribution to Comic Relief was quite modest (about £20), but overall, with the formal-wear charge and a bake sale and a rather bizarre auction of donated items the department managed to raise a total of more than £1000.