Thursday, April 27, 2006

Keeping your poop in a jar*

Last night involved a trip out to see the mighty Hayseed Dixie live.

For those who aren’t in the know (and you should be), they’re a four-piece band of good ol’boys who play country/bluegrass covers of rock songs. In dungarees. Sounds rubbish, is in fact brilliant. After twenty minutes or so (and buoyed up by a marvellous support set from Mary McBride [she did a track on the Gay Cowboy Movie soundtrack, you know]) the place had an air of Southern Baptist Tent Revival, and you can’t say fairer than that on a Wednesday night in East Anglia. Even I managed to enjoy myself, despite the fact that I was a) driving b) tired and c) in a mood so foul that Elton John in a full-fledged hissy-fit would have apologised and backed off. Going to see a band in a small venue requires endless patience and steel toecaps, neither of which were in my possession. After an hour of standing perfectly happily(ish) in a pretty good spot, I felt moved to tap a man on the shoulder and point out that as I am only five foot five and he was six foot four, it wasn’t really fair of him to shoulder through the crowd and stake out a place directly in front of me (so close that my nose was pressing into his jumper, and that is Never Good) so far into the evening. To his credit, he was extremely gentlemanly. Up until the point when his Dad got into a fight in the pit, that is. It was one of those nights – and there was me in the middle of it – stone cold sober, tired and with the thought of a 6am run hanging over me. I think I did rather well, myself. I didn’t join in the fight or anything.

And so to the car park. Which goes something like this:

Pay your ticket fee at the pay station. Repair to car. Bulldoze car out into endless queue of almost-stationary cars attempting to exit multi-storey. Refuse point blank to give any quarter to anyone unlucky to have arrived back at their cars after you and who is now attempting to exit their parking space and join the queue. Rail helplessly at the man in front of you who insists on letting people out. Ask him rhetorically (he can’t hear you, you know. And even if he could, he wouldn’t care) why he can’t grasp the simple logic of the situation – if every car lets another car out, and each car is only moving a car-length at a time, I WILL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING CAR PARK AND I HAVE AN EARLY START, DAMN YOU!! Sulk. Inch forward, tortuously. On finally reaching the ground floor where the exit barriers are, become aware that people are stopping at the barrier and then getting out of their cars and going to the pay station. Launch a futile, invective-peppered rant against people who are so stupid that they thought it was better to get themselves back to their car faster and then hold up everyone else who had done it the right way round. Arrive at right-hand ticket barrier. Watch incredulously as man at left-hand barrier exits his car and heads for the pay point, ticket in hand. As the red mist descends, borne of tiredness and frustration, wind your window down and involve your partner in a double-barrelled fusillade of abuse against ridiculous, low-browed halfwit who doesn’t understand the basic premise of a car park. This might sound something like:

Me (incredulous): “What the FUCK are you doing?!!”

OH (five pints of Red Stripe and no tea): “YOU FUCKING COCK! YOU RETARD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!”

Me (sarcastic, with an edge of violence): “Did you miss the part where you’re supposed to pay for your ticket before you go back to your car? How stupid are you?!”

Man at Pay Station (polite, slightly bewildered): “Everyone will have to do this. We’ve all been in the queue so long the tickets have expired and you’ll have to pay another fifty pee. Look…(gestures at man in front of us failing to get the machine to accept his ticket). Sorry..”

Me: * breaks eye contact, winds window up, orders OH out of the car to pay the extra on the ticket *

Still, live and learn, eh?

* A touching love song with the lyric Keeping your poop in a jar/Until you come back so I don’t forget just what you are/Yeah, I’m keeping your poop in a jar. Best sung en masse, with the crowd waving lighters.


Blogger the Beep chimed in with...

did they play that metallica song, or is it moetorhead...?

27 April, 2006 16:33  
Blogger Fifi chimed in with...

Five pints of Red Stripe and no tea.
I like it.

27 April, 2006 17:34  
Blogger Arabella chimed in with...

I think you may have ruined Eleonor Rigby for me, but anyway..

Fellows in overalls, just what you need for a night out in Norfolk what with the bird-flu slaughtering. I love me the bluegrass as they say over here. Every September in Golden Gate Park there's The Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, a free hayride with stars like Dolly. Such a big park though, even Ms. Parton in all her spangled loveliness is hard to see.

27 April, 2006 17:40  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

there's nothing like the moral high ground, is there?


27 April, 2006 18:00  
Blogger Jemima chimed in with...

Grr. That's made me really angry. The stupidity of the car park organisers. Did they not imagine people would want to leave, possibly at the same time and they ought to provide some sort of system to keep things flowing. Paying extra. That is insane.

Has anyone got a dog I can kick? I'm in that sort of a mood.

27 April, 2006 18:32  
Blogger First Nations chimed in with...

i love you for shouting out the window anyway. you go.
if you like these guys try some Southern Culture On The Skids. they did some of the music for Pulp fiction. hot!
plastic seat sweat-
oh, my balls are mighty wet....
gettin kinds sweet
aint washed 'em all week

28 April, 2006 02:44  
Blogger crisiswhatcrisis chimed in with...

Mwahahahaha. And I thought it was just me that bellowed invective in the faces of people being stupid, when all along ...

28 April, 2006 10:44  
Blogger Cigamybab chimed in with...

Wazz up


(____ /.............(_____)

29 April, 2006 01:44  
Anonymous kyahgirl chimed in with...

yes, the parking lot is always the worst part.

your commentor cigamybab is quite talented with the dashes and dots and stuff!

29 April, 2006 13:42  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

i know. i don't know whether to applaud or ask him if he's taken his meds today...

30 April, 2006 11:41  
Blogger shiftclick chimed in with...

Love your new avatar, can't comment on keeping your poop in a jar as I stopped reading at the title because I'm a giant wussy girl and I KNOW you wrote something incredibly brilliant and worthy but. ;)

30 April, 2006 16:02  
Blogger Inexplicable DeVice chimed in with...

Poop in a jar? Sounds more than a bit stalkerish to me. Especially writing a song about it too!

01 May, 2006 11:37  
Blogger peter chimed in with...

Did they do the helium rap from Roses?

04 May, 2006 17:14  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

oh yes. but in a sort of throaty, down-home way.

04 May, 2006 19:47  

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