To catch everyone up, Friday did indeed turn out to be a marvellous day.
I loped off towards Maidstone on the train during the afternoon and found some cheap-ish rosemary oil in Chequer’s shopping Centre. I have to take back what I said about Maidstone, one can find ‘some’ manicure supplies, nailpolish and such, but what selection there is leaves a lot to be desired.
I made friends with this young guy Dan and his girlfriend Emily who work at The Belly Bar, a piercing and body jewellry cum sex and lingerie shop. Had us a pretty interesting conversation, and well it’s just nice to make friends, you know?
The big news of the day, was this amazing bargain I got. I’ve been wearing this fabulous deep red lipstick called Vixen by Revlon, in their Absolutely Fabulous Lipcream line. This is one of the sexiest reds, it’s my ‘Stop and look at my sexy fucking mouth’ lipstick.
Thing is, when I was living in Barbados and discovered this shade, it was about $22BDS duty free or some ridiculous number. After the first one vanished in six months, I’d taken to buying two at a time so I wouldn’t have to do without it.
You actually can’t find the shade or the line in any Revlon counter in Trinidad, so when I was in Bim last year, I did my do and bought two at a time. I am near the end of one tube, and close to busting out the last of my Vixen supply.
So see ya girl wandering Chequer’s on Friday afternoon, and they were getting rid of makeup…. and there, there in a basket were the remnants of their Absolutely Fabulous Lipcream line, which incidently Revlon no longer seems to be manufacturing, and I managed to dig out five tubes of Vixen shade in pristine condition. Imagine Big Mami’s shock, to pay £1.25 for the lot!
I left there smiling from ear to ear with myself. What a way to spend your last ten pounds. I don’t care… books and lipstick will make a right beggar out of me. Haven’t I said that before?
It was a bargain, a bargain to end bargains! I was ever so fussy with myself. I shall be Vixen-ish for a while yet it seems.
By the time I got home, I had a good while twiddling with Tribe, until exhausted I decided to go to sleep a little earlier. I was conked out by about 9.30pm.
The next morning, I had barely had enough time to sit up and get out of bed, and was just getting ready to check my e-mail, when my cousin’s friend P leaned on the doorbell… hard.
When I opened the door, I say ‘Hello P,” he says, “Put on your clothes, dress in all black, you’re working with me today.”
“Really, I am?”
That’s how Saturday started, and it only ended at 7.30/8.30am this morning. Twenty-four hours!
Anyway, first it was off to Lewisham, where I got a pair of gloves and a little skully. After an almost interminable amount of waiting, we finally made it to the venue. I was to be a security person. You know, the lot that pat you down when you enter a club? And what a club, nothing less than the Hammersmith Palais. The event? The ChoiceFM Club Oxy event for…. teenyboppers. Thousands of them!
The afternoon was spent patting down prepubescents, taking cigarettes and chewing gum off of them, and you know standing around.
I searched Gemma Fox, Nalia Boss and a couple members of Big Brovaz. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until well after that I realised that these were famous people. It’s kind of nice to be blissful though, and I truly am not to impressed by famous-ness. I’m more impressed if famous people don’t take their celebrity too seriously, and well Gemma Fox submitted to the search like a lady.
The whole day was exhausting, I was on my feet for six hours straight and at the end of it, so flipping hungry, oui?
I had to pull a double shift, because there’s another security gig that P handles, that needs an extra person to fill in from time to time. This one is far less glamourous, it’s at a gated community sitting in the security booth.
Me, it’s just a little extra something I can do to make extra money at this point. I’ve told Paul that as soon as I get a proper job, I finish with that.
When we got picked up around midnight, and taken back to a holding flat, I crashed on the couch for a few hours before P came to get us, which wasn’t until about 4am. We had to wait a couple hours too, because he didn’t want to drive down to Kent because there was a wicked fog most of the night.
It’s getting fucking cold, yes! COLD, cold, cold no ass!
I got paid, truly, truly not no big set of money, but enough I can get smokes this week, go up to London next weekend to hopefully meet up with Laura’s ex-professor and get some winter clothes from my cousin’s mother.
I feel good. I have worked for money on English soil. I felt up a couple of stars. Yesterday I made #2 in traffic on JS. I have a two year supply of my favourite lipstick and my eye was not poked out over it.
I bought a phone card and called my Mummsy-Wummsy; who is taking in a couple of students from Grenada, so they can go to school in Barbados.
She was telling me that when she left the Cayman Islands to go back and live in Barbados, her friends in Cayman told her she was crazy. They said she was crazy because being a teacher in Cayman pays two almost three times as much doing in Barbados. Mummy insisted, she wanted to come back.
Now, those same friends have no jobs in Cayman. They’ve lost their savings, their homes and the Cayman government has asked them to leave. They don’t even know if they’re going to get paid when they leave.
I said to her, “Mummy, you me and J, crossed over on the other side of something. We’ve escaped some terrible bad luck. We should be grateful!”
“Surely, surely,” she replied.
Truly, surely, truly, indeed.
That was me that felt up that superstar!