Sunday, May 16th, 2004It was fortunate that I was going out to a play yesterday evening, and I will tell you why. After spending all morning in my jammies reading and studying, I had a shower and was fully dressed in real clothes by mid-afternoon. There was then a knock on the door and S. and I opened it to find three boys asking to look at our flat, which was apparently being advertised in the papers without our knowledge. Confused, flustered, and nervous, neither of us could find a polite way of saying no. It wasn't until the boys had done their quick scan of the flat, were heading out the door, that one of them said "nice computer" to me, and my brain switched on again, immediately turning angry and suspicious. Do not speak of my computer, little man! If this was some sort of pre-burglary reconnaissance mission, and not an attempt to get the jump on other student renters, you have just now given yourself away! Be advised that I will be sleeping every night from now on with the doors quadruple-locked and a cricket bat next to the bed! I am on to you! Right, so the fortunate bit is that I was dressed in proper clothes there, and not in my Harry Potter t-shirt and sweatpants. I'm a lot less intimidating wearing my jammies. A bit shattered from that experience, I then went to meet some kids at the Beckett triple-play at Bedlam Theatre. While I was sitting on the stone wall waiting, I saw a woman with a walked trying to cross the street. On the bench of the walker, there was a folder full of papers, and yeah, you know where this is going now. The wind blew, the papers flew, and then I was treated to the most amazing sight ever. People came streaming out of the theatre to pick up her papers, cars stopped while we scrambled for every last sheet, and a stranger brought the lady a carrier bag to put all her papers into so it wouldn't happen again. I got a little teary-eyed after that, all "aw, the world is full of such lovely people", which really didn't mesh well with the soul-crushing despair the plays then evoked in me. And it probably explained why I afterwards tried to explain to M. that Beckett's world view was a cheerful one. How did I ever reach that conclusion? Upon returning to my flat, I got a call from W. asking if I felt the need for pub food. Honestly, people, when do I not feel the need for pub food? So we went to Drouthy Neebours and there was much conversing and much consumption of chips and fizzy drinks, which of course, almost made me late for another rendez-vous for fizzy drinks down the road. So social!
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