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| Hidden Beauty |
3 Jul 2009 22:10:08 GMT |
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I don't know if the weather is a precursor to some kind of catastrophic shift in climate change, but i can tell you now that i'm enjoying the flexibility of the weather and what it allows me to do.
THE BARBECUE
Okay, so last Saturday it was Pablo's Annual Barbecue. Now, we learnt a lot of lessons from last year, not least that it's probably better to buy a keg with a tap on it, and also girls don't like sausages that contain more gristle than meat. Also, the event was to be hosted in Paul's spacious communal garden. Despite nearly slipping a disc trying to life 40 kilos of storage box whilst bent over my wardrobe (in a surprisingly successful attempt to locate a pair of amplified speakers), i made good on my promise to turn up at midday. I hopped on the overground to Acton Main Line and bought a couple of steaks before arriving at Chez Richardson's.
Ian and Paul were stretched out in the garden, along with Laura, Paul's sister. I jacked his podbox into the speakers, and soon Paul's playlist was booming out such hits as The Beatsteaks, Anti-Flag and Eminem. I was hungry, but everyone else voted to hold back on firing up the disposable until the others turned up, so we kicked back with beer and let the sun launched a full-frontal assault on our pasty forms. Paul got surprisingly offended at us using his roll-on sunblock (which cost NEARLY two quid). I lay back and listened to the tinny noises of record label approved anger.
Eventually, the others turned up. Hal came first, brandishing a watermelon the size of a brontosaurus' testicle. Paul immediately attacked it with a steak knife and carved out huge, ugly chunks of red for us to devour. Hal's a strange fucking character. He made a fortune out of co-authoring a book that's become a steady bestseller. He looks like a cross between Adam Sutler and Biggles. Hal hangs out with Ian, and a few moments later another one of Ian's friends turned up. Ken was a student at my old alma mater and arrived with his girlfriend. Paul's friends also started trickling in, including a friendly Italian girl and her boyfriend. Richie had made his way down from Leamington and immediately went to look for beer. Ursula and Babs were also invited, and they arrived brandishing kabobs and strawberry salad. There was a rumour that one of the girls was a stripper, but i'd had a beer and it was hot so i may have just imagined it.
The barbecue itself went brilliantly. The steaks were juicy (Paul opting to gobble his rare whereas i took mine well-done this time) and there was enough booze and soda to keep everyone happy. Ursula took out her poi and started doing her thing. I chatted to Babs about her job at Hasboro. Originally, i thought Babs had worked for Haribo, the sweet company, and she used to think i was funny because i kept asking her for free pink shrimps, but we've ironed things out since then.
As me and Paul were engaging in a game of "melon helmet meltdown", clouds started to take the edge of the blaze and the temperature dropped. Within minutes it started to rain the frenzied downpour of summer rain. We retired to Pablo's living room and played Guitar Hero.
At around 7pm, i was feeling a tad woozy from the topless sunbathing, three cans of beer and a steak sandwich. I was also wary of Gary's wedding the next day, and my responsibilities as Best Man, so i made my excuses and left with the majority of the other guests. I got back to my house feeling a bit regretful as i realised that a momentous barbecue organised by Paul and myself comes but once a year. It was only 9pm, should i have stayed a while longer?
At around 10pm i sat on the corner of my bed, wrapped in a towel after rinsing the sweat and motes of charcoal off my body. I was busy memorising my wedding speech for Gary when i got a phone call. It was Pablo. Apparently, the only people left at the party wee Ian's friends and their idea of an after-party was radically different from Paul's. So i invited him, Laura and Richie to hang out at mine, feeling better now that i could find time to work on my speech and still round off the evening with friends. I pre-empted their arrival at 11pm by popping to the nearby offie and securing a small stash of beer and cider. The original plan was to go find a late-night spot, but the heat had drained us so we sprawled out in my living room listening to music and exchanging anecdotes. In the end they crashed in my living room. Laura's just graduated as a graphic designer and is looking for work in London. So far she's been roughing it on an air mattress in Paul's living room, so my futon was a cakewalk for her.
THE WEDDING
I mentioned earlier that i was Best Man for Gary's Wedding. I wasn't kidding. Although not exactly aloof, Gary sticks to himself most of the time. We became friends during our mutual escapes from the office at lunchtime, both preferring to head down to the Lower Marsh to buy food than eating the grease they serve up at our canteen. Gary's a space shuttle buff, and he's got a knack for explaining things with surprising clarity, like why shuttles don't run on petrol and why they return to earth backwards, and upside down. About 18 months ago, he met a girl, promptly fell in love with her and got engaged. He also told me i was going to be his best man, not leaving much room for negotiation. Still, i've been Best Man before, and figured i could air out the old seersucker one more time.
To ensure that there were no last minute hiccups, i decided to crash at Gary's place the night before. He's got a nice little gaffe over in Maidstone right out in the suburbs. I must admit, i was a little envious at his basement, office room, two fireplaces and real furniture. But what is one to do? For Camden Town takes what it calls it's own. Gary took a spare mattress out of the attic and said i'd be sleeping in his "office", which was actually a room full of rackmount servers. Gary's a teetotaler (having gone off the sauce years earlier), so we had a somewhat more gentler stag than Mark's technicolor rural nightmare. We took dinner at the local Old Orleans, where a perky little vixen took our orders. She was bearing a brand-new tat on her forearm, still shiny and fresh with sub-dermal dye. Afterwards we watched "Year One", which was definitely a film. Afterwards, we headed back and got prepped for the big day. I fell asleep to the sound of a dozen computers breathing to keep cool.
The next morning i donned my suit, calmed Gary down and strolled to the Archibishops Palace, now a secular registry office. Gary and Krys share one thing in common with my brother and Elaine - they prefer style and substance over pomp and grandeur. The sun was blazing and i was glad to be in the air-conditioned catacombs awaiting the ceremony. I met Penny, Krys' sister who was bridesmaid. She looked beautiful in a blue satin dress. Eventually, we were called in and the marriage took place. Needless to say for someone whose wardrobe consists of freebie T-shirts from various computer seminars, Gary looked terrific in his freshly-laundered and spotlessly starched suit. And Krys was stunning. She had transformed herself into a curvy bombshell with a hair so full of carefully sculpted bangs and curls it looked like a blonde waterfall. They exhanged vows and i signed as witness. Afterwards we posed for photos for about an hour (the heat!!) and rounded the event of with both families at a local restaurant. I made my speech and it well down nicely and afterwards i retired to the train station to let the lucky couple proceed with their honeymoon. As i headed towards London Victoria, i wondered if i'd fine someone i wanted to spend the rest of my life with. For the first time ever, i honestly thought i would. Finding this person will be half the fun.
Tomorrow, i'm meeting up with Kirsi, a rather lovely Finnish girl i met on New Years. I'm hoping to dazzle her with my wit and sunny disposition. Failing that, i'm going to take her around some of the nicer parts of London and treat her gently as she'll be recovering from the Blur gig that's been on in Hyde Park.
And Sunday? Why, it's Mark's wedding of course :)
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