Tag Archives: O2 Arena

LonDumb – Part III

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Stage

Continuing on from LonDumb – Part I and LonDumb – Part II…

Everything’s Gonna Be All Right (Oliver Nelson Remix) – Barry Manilow

So I’m at Will Call. On my right, a big huge queue. Chunky as funk. Balls, I’m going to be here ages. Steward nudges me inside the line. Thank you. Actually. Is this the only queue? Not unless I’m picking up VIP tickets? Actually, boss, I am! Points me to the walkway on the left hand side. Oh yeah. I see a V and an I and a P over that window down there. Skip on. Swoop the golden (purple) ticket. Take a look. Robbie Williams. O2 Arena. All access. AAA. Good to go. Let’s get this show on the road! Handed a map with my ticket. You are here. Go all the way over there. OK. This a way. Start strolling through the arena. Big old place. Bucket load of people. Toe to heel. Slow walkers. Place is packed. Feels like I’m at a soccer match. Except instead of everyone being here to see twenty two players on a pitch, they’re all here to see one man sing. Pretty cool. Rob’s poster all over the shop. Groups of fans singing songs. Daughters, sisters, mothers. All giddy. All ready. All aboard!

Five minutes later I’m still walking through throngs of people. Novelty has worn off. Out of me way. Kind of late, ish. Past the F gate. Scuttle past the G section. Get to H, holy ground. Although, huge queue at this gate too. Line snaking up and down and up and down and keeps on going. Huh? Thought I was getting VIPed through, all these people are too? This is a disgrace, I say! Ask a steward – Am I in the right place? Looks at my ticket. Almost drops to his knee. ‘My lord, I am not worthy.’ Starts kissing my hand and asking for my forgiveness. Kind of odd. Tell him to get up. Ask again if this is the right place where I should be? ‘Follow me!’ Drops what he’s doing (barricading a burly woman from skipping the queue). Parts the red sea for me. Through the crowd. Points to the H gate, the other one. Oh, right, mighty. Beckons to another steward, fills him in quickly about who I am (a triple A ticket holder!). They both then form a King’s throne for me with their arms and carry me seated the rest of the way to my entrance. Nice chaps, Ollie and Tim, I made sure to tip them well. (Never leave home without a tissue!) Continue Reading »

LonDumb – Part II

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Charles II

Continuing on from LonDumb – Part I …

It’s A Long Way To Tipperary – Little Green Cars

What do you call a ponder pipe that just lays around all day? Mopey Dick. Badum. My first day in London, I was moping like no other. Woke up early. Phoned the prison. Spoke to Kailand. Told me her news – “They keep giving us bananas and milk for meals, I’m hooked on the milk.” Slurp. Filled her in on my news – US Embassy said there’s nothing they can do, magistrates decision so just have to sort it out when you get home. Some dose. Slurp. Kailand is upset. But still. Her spirits are high. Night’s sleep always helps in fairness. Or else they were spiking the milk.

It was then realised that it must be hard to keep conversations flowing with people in prison. Both had filled the other in in detail what had happened since we saw each other last (about 24 hours ago). After that, our news seemed insignificant or non-existence. I’d phone back and Kailand would tell me she had a nice non-English speaking conversation with an Indian woman about milk. I’d inform Kailand that the hotel room was nice but all the TV stations seemed to be showing was the Big Bang Theory. Then Kailand had to go to get more milk. I’d phone back. Find out if the milk was really cold or room temperature. Called off again to go brush her teeth if she wanted to. Phone back again and then… I was told Kailand had been taken away. Being brought back to the airport. Put on a flight. Which flight? Wouldn’t tell me? What time? Hung up on me. Dose. Wouldn’t speak to Kailand about milk again until she was back in L.A, eating some Thanksgiving turkey and egg nog. So that was a balls. Continue Reading »