Enormous news! I am now practically part of the A list. A highly sought-after actor with enormous natural talent. I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard of the programme ‘too ugly too date’ or if it ever got aired?! But I unexpectedly made my screen debut. And no, not as the title suggests but in the background which still counts. I was on a date, although sadly you can’t see her so it just looks like I’m that strange bloke enjoying a pint in his own company. Nonetheless, a promising acting career! Possibly even the next George Clooney or Zac Efron. Emphasis on possibly.
That’s not the only thing, I duelled with London’s transport system. I got thrashed. What better way to bring an A lister back down to earth than a good old dicking from the circus that is TFL at night.
Since moving to London I think I spend most of time in a state of intoxication. Not particularly healthy but what can I say, I love the fun juice! It was closing time in Spitalfields Market and I was as pissed as a newt. How to get home? I need the Northern line from either Moorgate or Bank, each a 5 minute walk from my current location. Well, the start was successful.
As I wandered down Liverpool St., I’m not entirely sure what enticed me, perhaps it was a sign from the big man himself, or maybe I was delusional. Either way I boarded an overground train at Liverpool St Station. Please note I never, ever, ever get either an overground train or leave from Liverpool St station. Madness. Now this would have been a quick fix if a) I’d noticed and b) I hadn’t fallen asleep. So I found myself far, far east near Brentwood. Now again this would have made sense if a train went directly from Liverpool St but it didn’t, so I’m assuming at some point drunken Jonathan must have changed trains. How the hell did I manage this?! It must have looked like something from Resident Evil. But OK fine. I could just board another train and go back to where I started. But of course that was the last fucking train and yes I was stuck in the middle of a field in what must be like zone 12. DAMN IT.
At this point I think I had convinced myself I would never drink again so you know I was in a pretty desperate place. You really can’t make these things up because this is where the fun really begun. It turns out the day before I had ‘temporarily misplaced’ my debit card so that was one payment method down. The second option, my credit card was up the shitter too, I’d hit my limit that night so that was a no go. Sadly, my zone 1 & 2 oyster card was redundant out in the sticks, and the fourth option of cash was pointless because who the hell uses cash in the modern world, such a dirty thing so full of bacteria and cocaine… At this point you might think (as I did) that I was totally up shit creek without a paddle, but alas!! I’m not too sure where it came from but somehow, I had roughly £9.32 in loose change. Maybe the world wasn’t totally against me! Or maybe it was because all I could afford was a taxi from the middle of fuckknowswhere to Stratford. Haha yes, with Stratford being in zone 2 I could use my Oyster card…if it wasn’t 4am and the tube wasn’t truly shut. It’s OK I’d sit it out and wait. And that’s exactly what I did for what seemed like hours.
And then it happened…a 24 hour bus rolled past…and as you might have guessed logic is not one of my strong points, so I chased after it thanking the driver with “Like an Angel you’re my saviour”. Appreciated this was an abnormal greeting and he probably thought I was on shrooms, but I was just incredibly thankful. Blurry eyed and with the hangover starting to kick in, I boarded my second leg home. You may or may not be surprised to know I was the only person on it.
Sadly, it only took me as far as Liverpool St, so I wandered around waiting for my final bus, the one that would finally take me home. Travelling in London with no tube or money is exhausting. And then I came across it – the 24hr McDonalds at Liverpool St. At this point I was close to tears from my traumatic experience, not helped by the realisation I couldn’t afford anything. However, a very kind lady who must have felt nothing but sympathy for me (did I look that bad?!) bought me a cup of tea. My second guardian angel of the night.
I was ready to be taken home. I felt like Bilbo Baggins ready to board that big swanky ship having got too tired for mortal life .
But the company on my saviour bus was more orcs than elves. Whereas all I wanted to do was sleep, most of the bus were longing for the party to keep going. I’m normally cool with this, but I was wrecked, so this time they were just loud speaking wankers. No, I did not want to know that Sam kissed Jenny or that apparently the Government records all our phone conversations so Robbie doesn’t ever use people’s names on the phone. Idiot. I did however have a front row seat watching a young couple perform a fantastic impression of a scene from Alien vs Predator…
London, I love you but you did beat me that night.