Cocktails and Records

Our local tube station has been home to a lot of tutting about an attempted robbery that took place there the previous weekend. The scandal is that it happened in the middle of the day. Convention dictates that crime is only meant to lurk amongst us at night.

Not in my world it doesn’t. The midday tube station robbery, like Prousts Madeleine, instantly took me back to one of my favourite crime moments, one which I still can’t believe actually happened to me.

It was a normal week day morning in the inner city Sydney suburb where I used to live when I was a student. I had gotten up disgustingly early at around 10am and found myself in the dire situation of not having any milk or coffee in the house. So, without a second thought, I headed out the door to buy some. It was a glorious morning I recall: clear blue skies, warm with a slight breeze and the streets of terraced cottages were ringing with birdsong (or squarwking as it tends to be in Sydney). Despite the lack of caffeine in my bloodstream, I felt happy and at peace with the world.

Suddenly I was rudely awoken from my reverie by a young man rushing up to me shouting and waving something. ‘Give me all your money’ he seemed be saying. I was kind of annoyed that he was interfering in my ‘moment’ and my quest for coffee and must have just looked at him in disbelief.

‘Give me all your money or I’ll kill you’ he continued. I looked down and realised that he was pointing a syringe disturbingly close to my chest. ‘It’s full of AIDs. I’ve got AIDS and I’ll stab you with this and kill you’ he added usefully.

I don’t know what came over me, but I was just really irritated. I told him that I didn’t have any money, that I was a broke student and just had a couple of bucks that I was going to buy coffee with. He could have that but it probably wouldn’t go very far now would it?

He just looked dumbfounded and said lamely ‘But I’ll stab you with the needle’.

Frustrated I shouted ‘And I’ve only got $5!!!’

At that he just turned and ran away, telling me to forget that this ever happened. I went and bought milk and coffee, and it was only when I was back home at the kitchen table that the reality of what had just happened really hit me and that my behaviour may have been a bit risky. Still, I was fine and I called the police who dutifully took pages of notes. Nothing else happened. And that’s the end of the story.

Wonder what ever happened to him though.

We went to see Alfred Hitchcock’s last British film The Lady Vanishes over the weekend. It was great, quite possibly the funniest Hitchcock film I’ve ever seen. I particularly liked the way it gently poked fun at the English abroad, as well as at traditional ‘English reserve’.

Ironically, in the packed cinema where I saw it, one man in our row showed no sign of any reserve whatsoever. He was a proud father taking his young daughter to the cinema to share with her what was clearly a favourite film. It started off well. Briefly. Then about 10 seconds into the opening credits his excitement at the occasion started to overwhelm him:

‘Alfred Hitchcock!! See, he’s the director. I love Alfred Hitchcock!’
‘I know Dad….’

This set him off for the next 90 minutes, meaning that the rest of the film was punctuated by his exclamations and her writhing in her seat, trying to ignore him.

‘The next scene has the lady who vanishes… that’s her!’
‘Don’t worry, she vanishes soon.’
‘She vanishes in this sequence, I think…’
‘Yes, it’s this one.’
‘Ooooh, this bit’s good.’
‘No, this scene’s better. This one’s my favourite.’
‘He doesn’t actually kill the lady you know…’
‘Isn’t this bit just great?!’
‘Did you see that? Genius!’
etc. etc. etc.

Unfortunately, I was overcome by my reserve and didn’t tell him to shut up. Let’s hope it was all worth it in the end though, and father and daughter successfully bonded. At least she’ll have some memories (fond or otherwise) of going to the movies with her Dad, and she’ll probably always remember his love of The Lady Vanishes. As will I.

Me and Christmas don’t get along very well:

1. It thinks it’s a Christian celebration. I’m not a Christian and think they stole it off the pagans anyway.
2. It thinks it’s a time for families to come together. I think it’s a sad society that needs an excuse to do this - what’s wrong with the rest of the year?
3. It thinks that giving one another gifts is a sign of love and appreciation. I think that if showing your love means giving your nearest and dearest a copy of today’s Amazon Christmas gift recommendation How to Fossilise Your Hamster: And 99 Other Experiments to Try at Home then you’re in trouble.

However, for the sake of harmony, I’m trying to offer an olive branch to Christmas.

For one, I am entering into the festive spirit by consuming lots of stilton and port.

But try as I might, boy is Christmas is annoying me today:
.

1. The streets are clogged with harassed and stressed shoppers getting in the way of me buying ordinary things like milk and newspapers.
2. Royal Mail managed to deliver the Christmas card I sent second class to the designers I work with before the slightly more important proofs which I sent first class a day earlier.
3. The banks festive tinsel fell on my head when I visited my local branch at lunchtime.

Has Christmas seen through my pretence, cottoned on to my true feelings for it and is now beginning to plot against me?