My New Friend & I Got Dickheaded by Friday 13th

 Let me tell you about some bad luck that crossed my new old friend's path last Friday (Friday fucking 13th that is) - and then decided to cross mine. I think some heedlessness managed to creep along our paths too, somewhere down the line, for when my old new friend spoke to me of his misfortune, neither of us established that it was Friday 13th fucking him about. But then I am not usually drawn to superstition.  Here's what happened....

I made my way to the offices in London Bridge where I was to have my interview for an editorial internship. I was extremely early however so I thought I'd sit in the park opposite and then return. Finding a park bench, I was content with the sun shining and my nose in a novel until an old-ish man comes shuffling about me noisily in the grass as if desperate to make his presence known. I was mildly irritated by his proximity but glad when he soon disappeared abruptly into some bushes close by, searching in the grass as he went. But five minutes later he returned with an I-don't-know-what-the-fuck-is-happening look slapped all over his face while I glanced at him over the page. His attire told me he was an outdoor cleaner or similar. His demeanour and my stereotypist ways told me he was a John. Or Charles. But we'll stick to John. Either way, I fear my glance may have misconveyed an interest in his life story.

"Oh God, I tell you love. I'm sorry. You know you wouldn't believe a horrible thing has happened to me today." he broke out, half directed at me, half at the bin next to me.

"What's that then?" I replied, politely (I think). He looked a bit pitiful and seemed nice enough for me to spare my obnoxious, untrusting voice.

"It's me wallet. I dunno where it's got to. It had twenty pounds. Can you believe? Some lucky bugger's got my twenty pounds. And my oyster card too. I'd just topped it up.

"Oh no." I said.

"And look at me pocket! It's so secure, it's got a button. So how did it happen?"

He just glared at me. Did he want me to console him? Was he half expecting me to produce a new wallet for him? "That's terrible. I'm sorry."

"You know what love. I am absolutely fuming right now. I am going fucking crazy, pardon my french". I wasn't so sure he was using the right words. He looked relatively calm, almost insouciant. "I gotta walk all the way  home to Brixton by foot. I can't be doing that. D'you know what?" I didn't know what. "I'm not even gonna work anymore for the rest of the day, no way. D'you mind if I sit down next to you love? Would you mind lending me a pen?"

I passed John a pen. He was overly grateful. But he didn't do anything with it.
"It happens", I tried to comfort him. "Did you have any cards with your name on it in the wallet? Maybe someone nice handed it in. Or do you not have any money on you to buy a new Oyster card?".

 He shook his head. We were silent for ages.

"And you know what love? I wouldn't even ask you for any. I'm not that kind of person. I will walk home and not take any money from anyone!"

Shit, I thought, I didn't even offer to lend him money. 

But then again, I'm sitting here waiting for an interview with a company that does not even want to reimburse my travel expenses, letalone pay  minimum wage. Also, I'm a poor gap year student with meagre funds in my account and about £1.50 in my bag. I also need to buy beer later.

Nevertheless I said, "I'm sorry, how inconsiderate of me. Please let me lend you some money to get home."

He was proud, I'll give him that, with his £20 and topped-up Oyster. "No ta, that's very kind but I'm not going to take it."


Yippeeee. Beer.


Eventually we parted ways, me and John. He wished me luck on my internship interview, I wished him luck on his 4-mile walk in the sweltering heat. Think it pissed him off.

As for my bad luck, the interviewer was a no show. The office was totally empty and I called her at ten to ask about it. Apparently she left me a message and she emailed me saying there was no Friday interview and that I should have come in on Tuesday instead. She almost sounded amused at the fact that I had made the trip to her office fro nothing. I assured her I did not get her messages but checked as soon as I got home anyway, because I do have the tendency to be a numpty on these matters.

Phone messages - 0
Email inbox - 0
Lying CEO with shite telephone manner and unwillingness to reimburse interns - 1

Just to be clear, Friday 13th is said to be unlucky because it was the day Judas betrayed Jesus. And he was the thirteenth disciple.
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 1. Why do I always encounter old, mysterious, gregarious men?
2. Why do these encounters always somehow allude to Christ's apostles and Judas? (See this previous post if you don't know what I mean)

Thanks for reading!

Oh How I Miss Being Pure of Soul

Well I came across an ad online amongst the classifieds of Gumtree London today. It called out:

'VOLUNTEERS NEEDED FOR 5 WEEK BABY MASSAGE COURSE!'

It felt a bit of dubiety for some reason, as the words caught my eye. Never had I heard of a 'baby massage'. Having nothing better to do and hoping to put my devil scepticism at rest, I clicked the ad and it read...
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Volunteers Needed For 5 Week Baby Massage Course South West London, London

Hi there

My name is Alex and I am currently studying towards becoming a Certified Infant Massage Instructor. To complete this wonderful course, I need your help If you have a baby aged between newborn and 12 months and can spare one hour of your prescious time a week, for five weeks then please get in touch. I am happy to work on a one-to-one basis or if you fancy getting your Mummy friends involved too, then the more the merrier You will be welcomed into my home (in Earlsfield, SW18) or I can come to you!

WHAT'S IN IT FOR YOU?
- a chance to experience a full baby massage course FREE OF CHARGE
- learn a new and incredibly rewarding skill
- a relaxing and bonding experience for you and your little one
- a shared activity with friends that makes a change from Cafe Nero

If you are at all interested in participating or have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Alex Barnes
078** *****4
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So there's the ad. I think it's a terrific ad and have nothing else to say on the matter. Except I wish Alex every future success in his baby-massaging career and hope he finds the volunteers he needs.

I felt the need to block part of Alex's number in case he finds this and decides to accuse me of a subtle libellous attack. Not that it makes any difference and not that I give a fuck.

Please me tell me I am not alone in my distrustful nature. So. Erm, any thoughts on the ad?

Update On My Judas Chain and More

So after roughly 30 seconds of Googling an extensive period of research and thorough collation of informative results, I surrender. The Judas Chain is nought but a figment of Mr. M's imagination. Poor sod - he needn't have had a fit over espying my ASOS horsey. If you haven't the faintest inkling what the fuck I'm yapping about, please be so kind as to read my previous post. If you want. No pressure.

You may already be aware of this. Judas Iscariot was one of the apostles of Jesus, who he betrayed by selling him out to the priests. So acually, with the chain around my neck, Mr. M saw in me a disciple of Judas, which is why he was mortified. Or envious (it was difficult to tell). Either way, Judas comitted suicide soon after his fat payment from the high priests. So that's all very fun.

Needless to say, the pressure is on

In other wordly news, the 'H' key on my laptop has fallen off. This means every time I need the 'h', I gape stupidly with mouth wide open for about 30 seconds before realising it's not there. And when I do eventually find it, I have to key it with much effort so that something like thhhhhhhhhhhhhis happens.

Shite. I just realised I have ten minutes left to vote. Right. Poll station's two minutes away. I am going to run.
Hmm, what to wear?

What's a Judas Chain?

I work (once a week) at a hospital cafe near to where I live. So I was working there last week and quickly had to nip to the ladies. While reluctantly trudging back to the till and the Twixes and the coffee and the non-existent queue of cross customers, I was stopped by a man in his 40s having something to do with maintenance. He looked both curious and horrified as he stared in my direction; all the while I wondered what I had done to upset the man so.

"What are you wearing around your neck?" he burst out.

"Oh, this?" I replied, touching the pendant I wore. It was a well-crafted little horse I had brought from ASOS, hanging from the end of a long, black chain. I was confused - was my choice of accessory a fashion faux pas in his eyes?

"But what is it? Is it...is it a-"

"It's just a horse." I showed it to him.

"Oh." I didn't think this possible, but he managed to display both relief and disappointment simultaneously. "I thought you were wearing a Judas Chain."(I don't know why I feel the strong need to capitalise this thing, I just do)

"No no. Just a horse."

"Because it was just swinging away while you were walking and I thought, well that looks like a Judas Chain!"

"Oh. It's not." I tried to smile politely to tell him to fuck off.

Moments later, while safely stationed back behind the till and with Mr. Maintenance out of sight, I turned to my colleague.

"Christine, what's a Judas Chain? Have you ever heard of it?"

"A what?" she asked. She is a Christian and I knew nothing more than that Judas was a biblical figure.

"A Judas Chain. That man just asked me, in a very funny way, if I was wearing a Judas Chain."

She laughed. "I have no idea. But I tell you what, I wouldn't take notice of that man if I were you. He's a bit of strange one and I don't personally get on with him."

Good, I thought. Glad I'm not the only one who thinks that.

This week, I had just finished work and made my way outside and realised that my shoelaces were undone. Fucking hate it when that happens. I kneeled to tie them up.

"You're laces have come undone, love!" I heard someone heartily warn. I turned left to see Mr. Maintenance standing with another maintenance cronie who, more often than not, I see being reprimanded by Mr. Maintenance about a spillage or for leaving a door open. They were drawing on their cigarettes, standing close together.

Yes thanks for the ten-minute late warning, Mr Knobhead, is what I thought. What did he think I was doing at that precise moment if not tying my laces? Genuflecting to Judas?

"Yes I know. Thank you." I called back. They giggled like a pair of silly school boys, as though they had succeeded in some sort of practical joke.
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So that's all I've got. What an exciting life I do lead! I have some questions:

1. What is a Judas Chain?
2. What do 40-somethings find funny about a 19 year-old with laces undone?
3. What am I doing working as a voluntary cafe assistant at a local "hospital" that really offers nothing more than blood tests?

Thank you for reading!