Tiny at NPA texted me twice at half three in the morning about gaffer tape. He’s got silver gaffer and I gave him six short rolls of black gaffer yesterday, to his hotel. At the time I told him “I’m the emergency guy, you know that right?” I know he’s got silver gaffer and a fucking Sharpie if it’s that important to him. But no. It’s a 3.30am text. I’m curious to know if that’s when he woke up or when he put his head down.
Darren got sent with his gaffer to the venue today but he forgot his roll of twine and almost had to fight the minotaur before finally lighting on the location of the north paris arena. Which comes up on Google maps.
Now Tiny is asking for cable ties to his hotel room and I’m sorely tempted to show up with some…
Squeaky wheel gets the grease. He’d have seen the read receipt on his 3.30am wakeywakey text. I’m not letting him get into the habit of it. He’s a big boy now. There are two excellent hardware stores twenty minutes drive from him. His demands are small amounts of things he’s already got.
So I took him off my radar today and did other things. The boats at the start and I ended up having to help one of the venue managers onto site as this is how obstructive the security guys are. English AND female? Push obstruct button repeatedly until dead. I snuck a delivery MDS to her and then got in the car with her. Then she sent me back with a van full of pallets and a mission to work out how to refuel the propane fuel. I delegated the pallets to Pedro and the fuel to Jack and flew out to Versailles.
Then into Paris central. We are close to opening now. Grand Palais was having a fire drill so I had to talk their stuff over the fence, and then to EIF. The Champs de Mars. A huge compound under the Eiffel Tower and I only had a pass for Invalides. Thankfully I’ve got a TOT sticker now. “Tools of the Trade” It means I’m allowed to openly carry a machete onto any of the Olympic venues. “Can you open this box please?” It’s a sealed box of cable tensioners. I immediately take my Stanley Knife out of my pocket and one guy at security jumps backwards as I open the box. His supervisor indicates how I’m using it to open a box, a reflexive move now. “He has a TOT. Pay attention. He’s obviously safe.” Oh how little you know, child.
“Shall I come back to warehouse or stay in the vicinity of the Eiffel tower and have a lovely meal on my own?” I asked the team. We are on top of it but for good old Tiny at NPA having the wrong colour cable ties.
Au bon accueil. Right here. I get to eat yummy food and watch the Instagrammers. Joy.
AlBarclay 