diamond geezer

 Sunday, January 20, 2013

There are four teenage girls in my bedroom.

This is, as you can probably imagine, extremely unusual. Normally I never have any visitors round at all, but today I have four, and what's more they're staying the night.

I should point out that one of the visitors is my niece, and she's stayed the night before. Another is her best friend, and they've known each other since primary school. But two of the girls I've never met before today, so goodness knows what they're making of being dragged round to Uncle DG's house for an overnight stay.

The first I knew of this East Anglian incursion was over Christmas while I was staying with my family. I'd been in Norfolk for five days, but only in the last ten minutes was the subject of this particular weekend brought up. My niece and her best friend were planning to attend a music event in North Greenwich, and it finished rather late, and maybe it would be possible for them to crash on my floor rather than have to book some hideously expensive hotel. Obviously, sure.

Things then went rather quiet until last week, when it seemed pertinent to check the details of this visit rather more carefully. Trains had been booked, apparently, arriving in town at lunchtime on Saturday and heading home about 24 hours later.And two other girls were coming too, and that would be alright wouldn't it, they only needed space enough to unfurl a sleeping bag. Ah, OK.

A final check this week revealed an additional complication regarding sleeping bags, because they're not the best thing to take to a major arena event, so would it be OK if everyone unloaded their luggage on the way down thank you very much. And that was fine, I wasn't planning to do very much with my Saturday except for cleaning the flat, so obviously I could rendezvous in Stratford and lug one, two, three, four bags home on the bus.

Yesterday, standing on the platform as the Norwich train rolled in, I discovered there weren't only four girls attending the event, there were more than a dozen. The others weren't ever coming home with me, but this was clearly a major weekend out for the schoolgirl contingent. The posse eyed me up and down - some middle-aged bloke who happened to be related to one of their number - in the same way I might have done when I was seventeen. And then they careered off, in entirely the wrong direction, and I tagged along behind.

The encounter was over rather quickly, terminating as soon as the four girls realised they could pass their various bags over to me. And away they dashed, engrossed in the possibility that Norfolk's finest might win the imminent 'Open Mic' competition, and OK yeah I'd see them later.

And now there are four teenage girls in my bedroom. They're utilising a combination of mattresses, pillows, sleeping bags and floors, but a string of giggles suggests they haven't quite got round to sleeping yet. Meanwhile I'm on the floor in my spare room, ousted for the night, with a sheet across the window because nobody's ever thought to hang curtains. It feels most unusual.

I'm having to come to terms with the fact that my bathroom is no longer my own. The door is shut, which it never normally needs to be, and come the morning I may not be able to fight my way in for some time. I hope they're OK with the fact I don't have a shower, and aren't gasping in horror at the paltry range of non-designer toiletries lined up along my bath.

A tupperware box has appeared in my fridge, and there are various winter boots lined up by the door. I realise I have no idea what time the girls might wake up, and whether they'll want to hang around or else escape at the earliest possible opportunity. I hope they like the bits and pieces I've sourced for a potential breakfast, but if not I can work my way through the extras as the week goes on.

I'll get used to the incursion, in the short time they're here, and I might even enjoy having company around. But I've become so accustomed to living alone that the very idea of sharing space is something I usually try hard to avoid. Four visitors crossing the threshold of DG Towers is already way above my average annual total, and it's only January.

I doubt I'll be getting the best night's sleep, although I am glad to be of service and I know my help has been appreciated. Perhaps I might even learn to encourage people to come round more often, be that long distance stays or a quick visit from someone closer by. But I will still be secretly pleased later today when I get my bedroom back, and my bathroom back, and my fridge back, and my independence back. Night all.


<< click for Newer posts

click for Older Posts >>


click to return to the main page


...or read more in my monthly archives
Jan17  Feb17  Mar17  Apr17  May17
Jan16  Feb16  Mar16  Apr16  May16  Jun16  Jul16  Aug16  Sep16  Oct16  Nov16  Dec16
Jan15  Feb15  Mar15  Apr15  May15  Jun15  Jul15  Aug15  Sep15  Oct15  Nov15  Dec15
Jan14  Feb14  Mar14  Apr14  May14  Jun14  Jul14  Aug14  Sep14  Oct14  Nov14  Dec14
Jan13  Feb13  Mar13  Apr13  May13  Jun13  Jul13  Aug13  Sep13  Oct13  Nov13  Dec13
Jan12  Feb12  Mar12  Apr12  May12  Jun12  Jul12  Aug12  Sep12  Oct12  Nov12  Dec12
Jan11  Feb11  Mar11  Apr11  May11  Jun11  Jul11  Aug11  Sep11  Oct11  Nov11  Dec11
Jan10  Feb10  Mar10  Apr10  May10  Jun10  Jul10  Aug10  Sep10  Oct10  Nov10  Dec10 
Jan09  Feb09  Mar09  Apr09  May09  Jun09  Jul09  Aug09  Sep09  Oct09  Nov09  Dec09
Jan08  Feb08  Mar08  Apr08  May08  Jun08  Jul08  Aug08  Sep08  Oct08  Nov08  Dec08
Jan07  Feb07  Mar07  Apr07  May07  Jun07  Jul07  Aug07  Sep07  Oct07  Nov07  Dec07
Jan06  Feb06  Mar06  Apr06  May06  Jun06  Jul06  Aug06  Sep06  Oct06  Nov06  Dec06
Jan05  Feb05  Mar05  Apr05  May05  Jun05  Jul05  Aug05  Sep05  Oct05  Nov05  Dec05
Jan04  Feb04  Mar04  Apr04  May04  Jun04  Jul04  Aug04  Sep04  Oct04  Nov04  Dec04
Jan03  Feb03  Mar03  Apr03  May03  Jun03  Jul03  Aug03  Sep03  Oct03  Nov03  Dec03
 Jan02  Feb02  Mar02  Apr02  May02  Jun02  Jul02 Aug02  Sep02  Oct02  Nov02  Dec02 

eXTReMe Tracker
jack of diamonds
Life viewed from London E3

» email me
» follow me on twitter
» follow the blog on Twitter
» follow the blog on RSS

my flickr photostream