Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Tuesday 01/07/08

On Saturday we catch a flight back to London Stanstead and then a train from London Stanstead to Liverpool Street and then a tube home.  And this whole journey seems like the death of a party / after every party I die, a death that comes as no surprise – I'm not even going to pretend that I'm bothered by it.  So it's about 1130 when I get home and I watch some Greek TV and eat something that I don't remember right now but it doesn't count anyway because technically I'm still on holiday, and then I take four Nytol which don't really do anything for me, so I stay awake and have an imaginary argument with some guy at work in my head – an imaginary argument which goes a little bit like this: 

Guy at work: So I was reading Affluenza the other day and there was an interview with this guy who lives in New York and he's extremely rich, bit he's terribly unhappy.  Which goes to prove that money doesn't make you happy. 

(this part of the conversation has actually happened, the imaginary part starts from here on) 

Me: Yes, great, that's a sample of one. 

Guy at work: Why?  Do you think that money brings happiness? 

Me: No, I just think that no one with half a brain can ever be happy.  Money doesn't even come into it at all. 

Guy at work:  And why's that? 

Me: Because this is a life where I get a life threatening illness when I'm 25, an illness that could come back at any time and finish me off.  It's also a life where I am torn apart and bullied into a corner several times as I am growing up because fellow children make assumptions about my sexuality, not to mention a life where I have to come into an office and waste my time performing meaningless tasks that contribute nothing to no one for most of my waking hours. Finally, it's a life where I get people like you picking on everything that I eat / wear / say on a daily basis, and a life where you wake up every morning knowing that someone will send you an email or make a comment or say something about you, that will cut you up inside (for anything from a few seconds to several days). 

Then, satisfied that I've won this imaginary debate and as happy as anyone who can argue convincingly that life is not worth living, I leave home and go to Clapham to meet up with Scott. 

There's some local Gay Pride happening in Clapham on Saturday (= lots of people drinking and ___ in the sun), so I turn up near the bitter end around 2100 in the evening when most people have gone, and both the pride and the sun are running satisfyingly low. 

Then I stand there for a bit with Simon and some other friends, then Scott goes to use the toilet in some bar, then Scott comes back, then we head off, then Scott realises he's left his sunglasses in the toilet in some bar, then Scott goes back to find them, then he comes back only to tell me that they're gone, then he mopes for a bit. 

Because these are some ___ sunglasses that I bought him for his birthday (?), our two-year anniversary (?), some even like that anyway, and they were quite/very expensive. 

Then we're walking to the tube station and as we go past a restaurant we see two gays sitting outside, and one of the gays is putting on some sunglasses and showing the other gay and these are the sunglasses that Scott lost. 

So Scott runs up to the gay and shouts "these are mine" and grabs them from his hands.  Then the gay says (with no conviction whatsoever – almost whispering really), they're mine.  Then Scott says no, they're mine and you just found them in some toilet.  Then I say to the gay, OK, if they're yours where are they from and how much did they cost.  Then the other gay butts in (a lot more confident and brash – obviously a more experienced liar, which makes me hate the cunt) and says, "erm..actually they're Russell's".  By that time (and before I have the chance to ask who the fuck Russell is and can I have his phone number right now, or perhaps we should get the policeman standing over there) Scott has checked the handles of the sunglasses and has found out that the left one is loose (something he pointed out to me earlier in the week cause it was annoying him) – a final proof that they're his.  Then the other gay (the brash one) tries to argue a bit more, and I say "oh just give it up, I mean COME ON", and then we walk away.  So that was lucky. 

So what we learn from this incident is: 

a) If you're a lying cunt, please don't lie in my face about something we both know is not true

b) Don't bring your made up friend Russell into the conversation, it usually doesn't help 

But more importantly: 

c) If you snatch some abandoned sunglasses from the men's toilet, at least wait until you get home before you parade them around asking your friend whether they look good

Does anyone recognise this story?  Are the sunglass finders perhaps reading this?  Please get in touch.

29 comments:

Cockbag LLC said...

The same thing happened to me in grade school. I left behind my swatch watch (go ahead and laugh it was 1991) in a gym locker. Well the next day the kid sitting in front of me in geography class has it on. A little talk with the gym teacher and I had my trusty swatch watch back. Stealing, lying cunts suck.

London Preppy said...

cockbag: Nice, go to the authority. As you read I would have done the same

Gav Dublin said...

My my, fiesty arn't you!! Must be the Greek in you breaking through!!

Did you scare them with your absolutely vile henna tat?

London Preppy said...

gav: No, I was wearing long trousers. However, I was wearing the black t-shirt with the rip down the side (see picture here: http://londonpreppy.blogspot.com/2008/05/saturday-230508.html) and this time I also had my new tattoo there, so they must have thought we're well 'ard with the tats an' all (ahem)

Anonymous said...

Every time I read your blog you go up in my estimation. It is so sad to think that you are hurt by some of the stupid things people say to you on here though, as for your idiot colleagues......

Doghigh said...

Pride goeth before destruction...for lying cunts who snatch sunglasses and then try to pass them off as Russell's.

I mean seriously, IMO, this story about sums up anything related to "Pride" celebrations.

j said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
j said...

what an emotional rollercoaster... losing things KILL me. i once lost my stanford cap and wouldn't speak to anybody for days. but then i went all the way to CA to buy a new one...

London Preppy said...

anon: Thank you, that's a very sweet comment. I mean that

doghigh: He was so quick off the mark with the Russell thing. I mean for fuck's sake, who comes up with that?

j: Scott was also pretty down for the 15-20 minutes when he thought he had lost them. Then he cheered up

James said...

Scott would have got justice on them on the queer-klepto one way or another. The world works like that. Some cunt barged into me, breaking my sunglasses in the process, and then rather than apologise simply sneered. Whilst looking at me and screaming with laughter, he neglected to notice a bottle discarded on the floor, slipped on it and broke his ankle. The tone of the screams soon changed. On bad days I think fondly of this incident. X

Timmy said...

I lost a pair of expensive sunglasses in a restroom bar in New Orleans. I cut in line to get into the bathroom and then realized it was dark and I would have to get on my knees which would have lead to other activities that I was not willing to participate in at the moment.

I calmed myself down by telling myself that some fat mo probably stepped on them and crushed them.

I've lost an iPod nano at the gym and of course no one turned it in. I put a curse on it so that it will only play showtunes. That is the ulitimate in getting even!

teppy said...

You realise, of course, that this guy at work scrutinising every little detail about you on a daily basis is either a tragic closet case or totally bored with his own life. Why don't you flip it on him and make the same observations back? Or would this be dignifying some horrendously dull person with undeserved intrigue?! Mind you, if one of my colleagues burst through a Zara shirt with sheer bulk, I’d probably sit up and take notice too!

London Preppy said...

james: Eek. I want to pretend this was too harsh, but I know it's not!

timmy: The main problem with those guys (well, one of them in particular) was that he was bloody lying in my face! OK, take the sunglasses if you find them on the floor in a toilet (handing them in to the bar probably meant that the bar staff would have snatched them anyway). But when I'm there telling you they're mine don't fucking bring Russell into it, you know? I'm quite amoral myself but I'm not audacious

teppy: I think he's just bored. Of his life. But I like your theory too. I'm not bothering to hit back though

Graham said...

LP,

Thats the problem with most gays, they're so fascinated by shiny pretty things that they don't even realise they're stealing them until they've been caught red handed. And then they lie about it.

teppy said...

Also, not to sound too harsh but if you don't want people to be negative about you then don't write a blog. I mean, putting yourself out there will always draw some level of negative attention and there are a good amount of losers who'll say anything to detract from what you do. Meanwhile, a lot of people derive a great deal of pleasure from your blog. Write it for those like me who need regular interruption from the daily monotony that you yourself know so well!

william said...

This is completely unrelated, but I thought you might find this funny, if only for the Greek reference:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acERZQIAjUk&eurl=http://deadlinehollywooddaily.com/

dickophile said...

for a minute there i thought you were gonna smack a bitch up.

Gemini's Life said...

Who was take sunglasses for a bothroom? That's just! I mean, shouldn't Russell be afraid that he would get some kind of infection should he wear them? Not that Im saying Scott's dirty, but Russell clearly didn't know where those things had been, other then in a room where people deficate....

ANDRE said...

But, what if the sunglasses finders were two big and scary-looking chavs? How would an imaginary argument have gone with them?

Because that happened to me in the past, but in that case singlasses=jacket, chavs=italian street thugs, found item=stole item. And the argument ended at the hospital, covered in blood. :D

Trybaby said...

Actually that temporary tattoo was not a henna tattoo if you could scrub it off. The way henna works is that it basically stains your skin. Unless you scrubbed layers of dermis off.

Lol that was so great how you got the glasses back. I hate losing things even when it's just a pen. I like how they couldn't even lie properly. When I find things I always snatch them up because I know I'll return them, I'm not going to leave things there for other people to steal. I leave notes say that a "blah" has been found email me with it's details. I've picked up books, watches, wallets, debit cards. Yes yes, I am a saint :D

Natalie said...

really? i also fantasise about that happeningwhen i lose stuff and have the imaginary conversation. Can't believe it happens in life.

well lame though. If that was me I would a) not steal them, but if i did I would just say sorry!

Matt said...

What we learn from this is that little gays have sticky fingers! These sticky fingers usually come together with a deluded sense of self-righteousness.

It's all been seen and heard of too many times before. There are several kleptos around that I could warn you off or let you know where they live when something of yours goes missing. One of them isn't Russell.

What do you call a guy with no arms and legs lying in a pile of leaves? Russell.

AlwaysReadySF said...

That was brilliant. I think everyone would like to have that happened to them. The finding part, not the having it stolen part, I mean.

I always lose small items. Forget them on trains, airplanes, in bathrooms, drop them on dance floors, you name it.

I have been lucky (i.e. people turn them in) with wallets for some reason, but not so much with iPods, mobiles, sunglasses and watches.

Maybe you should have asked for the two lying cunts' phone numbers. They might have some of the stuff I lost throughout the years (a bunch of it in London too!)

Doc said...

hi preppy. n1_matey (previously londondoc) here - we used to chat on gaydar. how are you? i'm trying to work out whether you're ok or whether i should be worried - do let me know!!
xx

Anonymous said...

Running up and shouting and snatching them? Really?

If that's the way you and Scott handled the situation, I don't really think you're in any position to be mad at them for lying, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've continued the childishness on your blog with name calling.

dimitri said...

now this is a line from your blog that should certainly be tattooed:

"b) Don't bring your made up friend Russell into the conversation, it usually doesn't help"

hilarious!!

Anonymous said...

I think, in this relatively amoral world, we can all agree that the proper course of action upon finding sunglasses was: a) if you saw a person leaving the bathroom before you, find them. If not b)decide if you like them c) if no, hand to bar staff. If yes keep; and d) if someone says 'these are mine', demurely say 'yes they probably are' and hand them over.

No harm no foul.

Anonymous said...

Lolzies, I had the same experience but in 1988 or something with a Swatch watch too! Hilarious.

London Preppy said...

doc: I'm fine really. It's just writing, innit?

anon: Yes, I'm childish, it's true. Thanks for giving lessons of immense maturity though by leaving anonymous comments on blogs judging people and behaviours you know nothing about