Monday, 7 May 2012

Spectra Chrome, Burton Suits, False ID's.

The Internet can turn up so many unexpected gems.
Take the two images below, to most people these images
depict a once vile piece of vandalism from some
mindless idiot and then it’s demise from public view.
To me though it is a cold winters night 1989, two cans of Spectra Chrome and a Hammerite Black. A piece of note paper with a sketchy outline and a pack of ten Regal are all held in hand. Only sharing the space and bitter cold are the dogs in the gypsy site behind
who’s barking hide the hiss of paint and
my movement on loose stone.
Walking back track side to a gap in the fence and then into the heart of an empty rail station. The locker key in my pocket, twists releasing the lock to find a bundled plastic bag. The gent’s toilets welcome you with stale urine and an empty cubical
allowing my change into a Burton suit and tie.  
Triumphantly I head to the local underage-drinking hole where I’m greeted by a queue a mile long
bouncers in black eye my chances and so I don my false I.D.
Inside the neon pink fur wall leads me to the bar
a cheap watered down pint fills my gut and whilst standing there I watch the girls mass, stretching my wallet for condoms
a £1 for three I should be.
My luck not complete for that night I stagger to a friends in town. We jump into an old mini cooper and hand brake turn the streets until dawn. Sleeping on his sack like sofa I wake the next day, vomit lines my throat and gel holds back my curtain like hair.
Ready for another day on YTS, £75 of Mr.’s Thatcher’s best.
All now just faded memories, no wife to speak of or convictions from that night and yet one thing has stood this test of time, my name.