Hey, dudes. Permission to speak candidly?
I had a crazy week in London. And now I’m on my way to Texas.
So let’s talk about London. I saw great friends and had a wonderful time; however, I missed the final four hours on the second day of the conference because my colleague lost his backpack [“rucksack”] the night before in a taxi while we were together. How awful, right?
It was Wednesday night. I was sober and hungry. I just wanted dinner. Instead, I got an adventure on my way to The Alibi. We stepped out of the taxi and my colleague’s backpack drove off inside the cab.
Oy!
And I had no idea where we were… but I quickly learned that Kingsland High Street is sorta like an affected, foreign copy of Brooklyn. Lots of hispters and emaciated girls. Vegans. Kids who need a shower. Although it has the look and feel of ubran NYC, it never quite gets the punk-outcast-artist vibe right.
So we walked into The Alibi and god knows the place is over now that I’ve been there.
There were young boys in skinny jeans and girls with piercings and tattoos. I looked around and thought, “Hang on, I’m with three guys in blue sport jackets and I’m wearing a skirt from Nordstroms. Fuck. I’m old.”
There was also a young lady with us who was wearing a very professional outfit and high heels. After a long day of TruLondon and company of lovely people who paid for her drinks, her ankles were rolling in. And men were noticing. Quite a few of them. While it’s hard to get kicked out of a sketchy bar in London, security guards walked around a few times and gave me the look that said, “You’re the mum. Take care of this.”
Wow, how did I get to be the mum? And where’s my fucking dinner?!
Honestly, the girl was lovely. She was just trying to have fun at a conference. I’ve been there. Does anyone remember when I started telling people that I was Laurie Fucking Ruettimann and it was not ironic? Good times. Thank god I have good friends who sent me home.
So I ‘paid it forward’ with this young woman and insisted, quite literally, that she leave the bar and get into a taxi. I offered to pay her taxi fare and the offer was non-negotiable but getting to the taxi was a journey. As we walked to the taxi stand the woman was yelling –
I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOOD!!!! I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOOD!!!!!! LONDONERS AREN’T LIKE YOU. WE ARE CYNICAL. I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOOD. I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOOD.
Okay, okay, okay. Get in the bloody taxi.
And I still never got dinner. I went back to my hotel room about 2AM and ate some stale Starburst that I found in my briefcase.
So fuck that — I don’t believe in good, either.
And I’m beat.
My week ahead? Well it must be better than the last two weeks—funerals, drunk conference attendees and expensive text messages in the UK.
What’s up with you? Anything new and fun?
19 comments ...wanna add one?
Is this the funniest post you’ve written in a long time? I think so……
And that email is still unanswered in my inbox!
Good grief. Poor woman. I hope my readers get two things out of this.
1. Pay it forward.
2. If someone is insisting you get into a taxi and go home, say yes.
It’s worth it knowing you more than likely got her home safe. Hungover as all get out, but safe. For that, people can could call me any name in the book.
I’m writing on the topic of Finishing this week. Why? Way too many open projects with incomplete timelines, busted taskings and crushed confidences. The last four weeks have been spent training my HRG Probie so she can take over the steady stream of administrivia.
Good Job on being the Mum. We all should get there sooner, rather than later or never. First by looking out for ourselves, then sacrificing/inconveniencing ourselves for the vulnerable. You did well and can be proud.
So, distraction and diversion over.
Be Well, Do Good Work, Keep in Touch and See You Soon.
THANKS RM.
Gosh, I will be seeing you soon!
Keep paying it forward Laurie Rue – St Peter at the pearly gates will make you dinner and let your cats in
I wonder if I’ve just ruined my good will and karma by talking about it.
“Less martyr. More discretion.”
You have interesting luck when it comes to London!
I attract crazy stories
Wait, are those dudes in the picture HRists? Because if so, wow.
Yes. Wow = what?
Wow = kind of hot.
I’m talking about the last picture.
Maybe because is b&w; the lighting; the continental atmosphere; or the flirting with the camera, but they look very good.
It was a compliment.
Got it!!!! They are fab!!
I’m going to pay it forward now and tell one of the guys in the pic that you said that!
Now there’s a mystery that needs way more investigation than it currently gets: where do the stale Starbursts come from?! I have them, always, in the bottom of my computer-case-briefcase-coolbag-that-holds-too-much-stuff thing, but I don’t remember buying them.
I have no idea!!
That is some funny shit. And I’ve been there, my friend, on both sides of the coin. I hate that feeling of looking ‘old’ in the Nordie skirt and pumps!!! Argh…when did that happen??
I’m going to out myself as the colleague who lost his backpack, and say that Laurie is officially set for life in karmic terms. Thank you Cynical Girl for your generous assistance and self sacrifice – for reals. That was fun AND crazy. Sorry about the no dinner thing. Nice use of the pics though. Cheers, CF