The Heel In The Gutter

The other day I partook in a radio show for my college, The Blackpool Sixth Form, on Radio Lancashire.

After waiting for a quantifiable time in a crowded canteen, me and my  two friends with me were informed that we were about to be interviewed in 15 minutes. When I say interview, I don't mean to mislead, but it was more like one question, move on, another question, move on - rinse and repeat.

It was during the break that Simply Red - one of the best bands ever - played on the radio. As I enjoyed the velvet tones of Mick Hucknall's voice, my phone rang.

The screen said 'Sixth Form'. 'How curious?' I mused, since I was at college already. I answered and it turned out it was just my teacher to sort out the details for a trip to London this Monday, which the college magazine had won (which I am Editor-In-Chief of BTW. Did I mention that?!?) Over the chorus of chatter in the canteen, I couldn't hear my teacher, so I told him I was in college and would be straight up.

After running there and speaking to him for around seven  minutes, I began to run back to the canteen, very aware of how much time I had left. On the way, a most random event occurred. Passing through the courtyard, I heard a women call my name (first time for everything I suppose). I turn (not in that way) and see 2 ladies stood over a shoe, tugging at it and waving me over. As I approach, another 20 secconds pass. Oh, the drama!

There they were, stood over the shoe - which was a kitten heel - laughing, as the heel in question had wedged itself into the drain... Cackling, they ask for my help. Increasingly panicky about the time, I get down on one knee (again, NO!) and start to yank at it (this is getting ridiculous), but to no avail. I glance up apologetically and am taken aback when I see exactly who the women are. A music teacher from my college - 'this is the first time I've worn heels!' she cried - and my high school drama teacher.

'I wondered when you'd realise it were my Johnny' she smiled. 'Alright Miss. Gardner' I replied, completely forgetting about the radio show. Turns out, she was there to take part in a teaching course. With a new found determination at helping out an old friend, I pulled out the heel. However, as I did, not only did I bring out the heel, but the entire draining system... After a moment of realisation, the 3 of us keeled over in laughter - the danger of me being in trouble for defacing college property non-existent as, technically, I've left - it was then, I remembered about the radio show - with about two minutes left to dash back.

I told the ladies that, although it  was hilarious, I had to dash, but I would have truly loved to see the outcome. I made it just in time to say my piece, but the heel in the gutter is by far more memorable...

I still don't know how this anecdote finished, but when I next walk through the courtyard, I'll be sure to see if that drain is back in place...

The £1 Woman

A few weeks ago, me and 2 friends, who are gay and together, went to Blackpool Gay Pride.

Needless to say it was one of the gayest experiences of my life. And that's saying something.

However, the crescendo of gayness that day came when we ventured out that evening, to the aptly named Queen Street, where all the gay bars are. On our way there, a wild woman appeared!

Intoxicated, she asked if she could borrow £1 to get home (the optimum word being 'borrow' - suggesting she is somehow going to pay a stranger back).

As I am a student and don't really have any sympathy for a drunken vagabond, the three of us merely apologised for being niggardly and went on our way.

However.

After we passed her, she then queried, which I can quote even after a month, due to it's sheer distinctiveness: 'Do any of you fellas want any business doing?'. I then told her candidly that, unless she would like to sit down and do some paperwork with me, no tar.

Me and my friends then laughed and informed her we are all gay - because, apparently, the signs weren't there...

We then continued on our merry way to Queen Street, meeting many queens of drag there.

But then I thought, £1.

I'm going back!