"Yeah. Thousands" I said as I flopped face down on a sun lounger.
"Strange...I haven't read anything about a festival in Clapham. I have read about an illegal rave in Wiltshire though..."
"Well, rest assured, I was in Clapham"
"So you say..."
"Mum, I'm 25 this week. If I'd been going to an illegal rave in Wiltshire, I'd have told you I was going to an illegal rave in Wiltshire."
There then followed a pointless and entirely speculative conversation about how people find out about these sort of illegal events. Text message, perhaps? I humoured her, "Carrier pigeon I expect. They fly in through open windows and drop a note with a location on it". I'd unwittingly dug a hole. "Yes, they probably know where to go because of the funny stuff people smoke floating out. Why are you only drinking water today? What did you do at the festival?"
"Oh for gods sake. I got drunk, mum."
Clearly, the stories in my mother's head (and the paper) are far more illicit than reality. I had indeed been raving this weekend, albeit in a fenced off area on Clapham Common. There had indeed been moments of drug-like euphoric clarity; that moment where you reach a peak of happiness and things just couldn't get much better. However, that was caused by a rumbling bass and being balanced on a stranger's shoulders above a cheering, moving crowd; not some ambiguous pill that's probably 80% paracetamol anyway. Oh, and copious amounts of pear cider. Now, my mum dabbles in the Daily Mail every now and then, which is much worse than it's class A tablet equivalent. In my opinion, if you want something that's going to instill paranoia and fear, you don't need a dealer. Just a news stand.
But parents will be parents, and where there's a daughter with a penchant for loud, fast music, there will apparently be illegal raves and drugs. Not that I needed any "funny stuff" in order to talk absolute crap. Picture the scene: 3 girls and a boy (more on that later) in a cab from Kings Cross back to Clapham (again, missions - don't ask) at 4:30am...and I look up at a low, orangey yellow circle of light shining through the trees. "Wowwwww" I said, in an open mouthed stupor. "Look at the moon! It's huggggge tonight...". The car went quiet.
"No, Jo - you idiot. That's Big Ben."
10 comments:
This is hilarious. Clearly your mother and mine are in cahoots.
Haha! Reminds me of my parents.
My grandma is worse. She reads all the gujurati papers, which for some reason seem to be filled purely with stories of girls who have been attacked in broad daylight, tricked by boyfriends or had their drink spiked, and has formed the impression that I am in grave danger the second I step out of the house. It is rather fustrating to explain to her that I have to go to work and so on :S
Have you ever tried ecstasy (if that is, indeed, the proper spelling)? Man, I would have LOVED to try it but it wasn't invented when I was walking around for two years in my recreational narcotic induced haze. It's just as well, I suppose, but I hear it's great.
More on that later. I await with baited breath. Pant.
Grump x
Digressica - Thank god I'm not the only one with HRH Paranoia in the homestead.
Chapati - Ha, that sounds like a very comforting newspaper to read. Such worriers...
Unbearable - Personally, I never have. But that's because I just know I'd be that 0.0001% that goes doolally and ends up in horsepiddle.
Grump - Ah yes...the boy...
A pedant writes
Actually it wasn't Big Ben. It was the clock face on the Tower of Westminster. Big Ben is the bell inside.
Although... to have actually seen Big Ben one would either need x-ray vision or a humumgous supply of LSD.
Hmmm.... :-)
*Chuckles*
Brennig - Oh, that would have been the perfect retort as well. "ACTUALLY it's the tower of westminster. burp"
Ellie - Waaaaaaaaaah :D
You were at SW4? I wanted to go but being in a different continent made it too tricky. I'd love it if The Boy happens to be one of my friends (although, I know, chances are very slim)!
Also:
You're going traveling? Where? On your own? Dooo iiiiit!
...I'm going to have to read back a few more posts, aren't I? This packing is not going to happen!
Roseski - The boy wasn't actually at SW4 but DJing at a nearby pub afterwards...but SW4 was wicked. So was get loaded the next day.
Re travelling check a few posts down
Post a Comment