I’m in Reading with tired hands. Driving up here and listening to the radio it’s all exploding again for the idiots that have been running this country into the ground. Oh well.
Lou is staying at The Pentahotel on Oxford Road, and I’m trying to remember what this place was called twenty years ago. People would occasionally book a night here with their girlfriend. I once missed my last train back to London after a birthday party and checked in here drunk as a skunk. It is just round the corner from The Hexagon Theatre. This evening we walked through St Mary’s Butts and The Purple Turtle is still there. All the drunken nights I spent trying to pull. The kebab van. “Extra Chilli Sauce please.” At the time there was a rumour that the science bods at The University had sequenced the DNA from the meat in that van and found the meat of 38 different animals including seagull. You needed the chilli sauce to mask the taste.
Mostly the town has changed. Sweeney Todd’s pie shop is still there, with a hairdresser next door, but Vicar’s Butcher no longer makes up the holy trinity, so they must be buying in their meat. Maybe they’re using the seagull stuff too now. I might see if it’s still up to scratch as I had so many pies there back in the day. York Ham and Stilton was the big one. I used to load up for the freezer every time I came here. Twelve pies. They’d be gone in six months, easy, every time.
There isn’t much reason to come here though. Strange to see the changes. I lived here before The Oracle came, and it was dead. Just pubs and kebabs and that pie shop. It looks like there are more people here now. More business. Maybe … maybe some people actually live AND work here nowadays.
We are just passing through town. Lou has two days off before a show next door. I didn’t go to the Hexagon often back when I was here as it was expensive. My mate worked as a stage hand there and taught us fight choreography for our shows. That was my only connection with the place and it went bitter. He was a good teacher of intention, not so good at safety. His fights were dynamic, but most stage combat these days is slow dance, safety demonstration. He ended up in prison…
I don’t think of this town much these days. Nice to reconnect with memories of so long ago, both positive and negative. I wonder if any old friends are still here…
AlBarclay 