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Martin Amis's True Tales of London Life

  
 
Whisky Priestess
11:02 / 21.12.01
As a follow up to Paul Auster and Jack Fear's Xmas stocking-filler, how about a home-grown UK version to play at?

Jack, if you could help me out here and let me know what the original guidelines were for the Auster book (length, style etc) that'd be great.

In the mean time, write your true stories in the style of Martin Amis if you like (or can), but no obligation.

People from outside London and the UK are welcome to join in, but in the spirit of the insular London publishing world, you have to replace Main Street, New Jersey or whatever with Clapham High Street, The Grand Canyon with the Isle of Dogs and the Eiffel Tower with the BT Tower, Big Ben or whatever is appropriate.

Those of you who need a bit of help with the local London colour, here's a link. http://www.a-london-guide.co.uk/attractions/default.asp?subareaID=3

Go!
 
 
Whisky Priestess
11:07 / 21.12.01
Here's Bill Posters's True Tale from the homophobia thread (slightly edited) to start us off . . .

"I was sitting in a pub in south London, on my own, reading the paper and getting blasted. As you do. A very large white guy walked over and gave me the usual homophobic gobshite. (I was a "poof", "faggot" etc, I got "gang-raped by niggers" and not only that, but apparently I "enjoyed it so much that I was screaming for more all the fackin' time", and that I was going to get a "fackin' good kicking", etc etc.)

He was big and between me and the door. Even though I did have a glass in my hand, I'm really not that sort of guy. A further dimension to the problem was his mobile phone. I've had so many mates get in trouble when someone has hassled them and phoned for reinforcements who 'en masse' have really done damage.

The way one talks and plays the situation is vital and though of course nobody or group is entirely predictable, one can talk one's way out of some situations, I reckon.

I talked a lot - I'll spare the details - but by the time I'd shut up, he was apologising to me (it wasn't his fault, I look "a bit effeminate, it was a mistake anyone could have made", apparently!) and insisting on buying me a beer to make up it. Scared as I was, I thought it best not to seem rude, and of course being a hopeless alcoholic, I said okay, one pint led to another and we proceeded to get extremely pissed.

And at some point during the course of this session with my new 'friend', he came out (pun very much intended) with the immortal "you know mate, if you did give me a blow-job, that wouldn't make you gay" line! Anyone for the 'homophobe as repressed homosexual sublating homoerotic desires into aggression' theory of queerbashing?! I know it's a cliche, but maybe they only become cliches 'cos they've some truth in them.

Anyway, at that stage in the proceedings I did decide it was time to make for home, thus missing the opportunity of heading back to his place and taking lots more of his gear while giving him a male-on-male blowjob which would nevertheless and appearances notwithstanding be of a completely non-gay nature! Me and my crazy life.

I must stop drinking with strangers sometime. But not yet eh?!
 
 
Jack Fear
11:21 / 21.12.01
The only guidelines for the National Story project were these:

Your story must be

(a) brief.

(b) true.
 
 
Whisky Priestess
13:22 / 21.12.01
Wandering one night around Holborn when I was first in London, trying to walk back because I was flat broke and had no money for a cab, I got hopelessly lost and sat down on a bollard to think/work out where I was.

Cab draws up.

"No thanks," I say. "I haven't got any money." Off he drives.

Five minutes later, I'm walking the wrong way (did I but know) down High Holborn, still trying to get home, miserable as sin. Same cab draws up.

"Sorry mate," I say, "No cash."

"That's all right," he says, "Which way are you going?"

I tell him King's Cross and he says he's going back that way anyway. He drops me right outside my door, for free, and drives off into the night after giving me the company's card.

I lost the card but I wish I hadn't: I'd never use any other company if I knew which one my Angel Cabbie worked for.

[ 21-12-2001: Message edited by: Whisky Priestess ]
 
  
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