Speaking of Violent introductions… I am now the little boy in the big City. I landed in a big shiny plane on the damp tarmac at Gatwick around 9.30 last night. Then I lugged my BEAST of a suitcase into the heart of London where I was briefly dazzled by a handful of sights as my taxi whisked me to my rather posh Holiday Inn Hotel.
Nando the receptionist checked me in… What kinda name is Nando, I mean really?? Then off to my lovely room that had… wait for it, a tv, a trouser press, scales in the batroom, a double bed, tea, coffee and… (pushing that boat out, now) …hot chocolate making facilities. My favourite had to be the White Dressing gown, you heard right… A White Dressing gown. My first evening in London was spent dressed in a giant white towel with sleeves drinking Hot Chocolate! Bliss!!
Today began with a very rude awakening by what I would normally refer to as a cockney wanker. However this man was worse than a cockney wanker, he was an Estate Agent. I arranged with said spawn of satan, a viewing of a property in the outer reaches of north London. Property sounded good! At 11 I arrived excited and ready to be amazed. My Estate agent, Richard was pretty nice to look at although he had the personality of a pig farmer, and the intelligence (I suspect ) of the pig. Still God grants small mercies to those cast on this earth with neither purpose nor personality, in this case good looks. Bastard!!
Viewing was unimpressive…
"This is the Kitchen!" NO SHIT!!!
"This is the bathroom!" Good job he told me or I woulda been shitting on the dinning table for weeks.
The property was merely 'unremarkable', probably the most damning label an Actor can give anything. I left quietly, I can't imagine anyone leaving any other way… The image of some woman Gripping the doorframe, being pulled by burly security men, screaming "I wanna live here now, Now… I love this house!" simply doesn't compute.
Next it was coffee time at my favourite haunt, Starbucks! Watching out the window I saw a bizarre host of Vomit Coloured Ponchos walking up and down the street… high fashion, allegedly! Eventually, just before my eyes started to bleed, it was time to go to the Passport Office. Of course I lived in terror knowing that getting anything done with the help of any government related organisation is impossible. It's their job to stop you at any cost. I needed a passport - I was more likely to have a bag placed over my head, hear a dull thud and wake up tomorrow in camp X-Ray! After all, I was wearing a little fake tan. I was, however pleasantly surprised… difficult, but not impossible. A Victory!!
The rest of my day was quite normal, I found a house in Blackheath and fell in love - then arranged myself a quiet night out in my new home.
I type this wearing that White Dressing Gown and drinking more Hot Chocolate. I'm so Cool! Not quite Carrie Bradshaw, but pretty damn cool, don't ya think?