_. Cold. Traumatic arrival at the office. Kathleen had raised her voice at Shazzo, at which the girl had fled in hysterics from the office locking herself in the toilets for over an hour. At 9:30 she emerged, very tear-stained, and attempted to escape from the YP with her bags. Sarah played a brilliant and spontaneous 'Henry Kissinger' and appeased the bereft Miss Cohen. I sat, wide eyed, at the skill of Sarah's United Nations-like manoeuvre. Shazzo was silent for the rest of the day, but at least we held her.
Onward to Rue Club at 5. Looked for the [Yorkshire] Ripper en route but saw nothing of him. I mused to myself as I journeyed along the dreary city streets that I was in the possession of a very large pair of menacing decorating scissors which would have looked highly suspicious had I been accosted and searched by the boys in blue.
At Ally's I put oyster paint all over her walls. Back to the New Inn for a few drinks before joining Mum and Dad with Jim and Margaret. Ally stayed over.
-=-
The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Wednesday September 4, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Overcast - me and the weather. The alarm sounded at 7 but Ally switched it off for half an hour. Felt groggy and could have s...
-
Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
-
Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
No comments:
Post a Comment