Sid's moments

They say to be optimistic is to wear the mask of a smile of secrecy, not that I had taken notice much when it was said, but the feeling remains the same. Some things stick and no matter what you do or say society will always see it in your smile.
So as not to waste to much of your time, I'd like to tell you a tale of mine, a tall tale society says.
Others seem more concerned with making money so they heed no word of your so called honesty, life is like that sometimes.
Personally its days like Wednesday the 15th of September 2010 that stick in a mind like mine.
I was close to making her a quote for the new generation, a word to be uttered throughout time, an eternal beauty to be gazed upon.
Optimism had other idea's.

Let me tell you about shit, shit is when you realise that all of your actions up until the present moment were all made with selfish intentions but it was fun, so you went along with it.
“Come on Ste get your act together the mini bus is coming in half an hour” Alright alright I told him, we were nearly ready anyway, still time for a pint before we set off.
“Chill your box nige i'm trying to roll a joint, all in time man!”
Don't think that I couldn't see what he was doing, cause I tell you now, nige is a bogey eater. He thinks ya don't see him, a quick pick and a lick and he's done. I grabbed my coat and we headed to the George hotel, locals just call it the Ge, but just so you know.
Let me introduce you to the lads, the big lad in the corner, the one wearing the silly tartan colar and cuffs matching in with the cheap fabric stapled to the seats, thats drummer he say's he didn't know when he bought it, in case your wondering about the name; no he doesn't play drums, we call him that cause he looks like the gorilla from Cadburys. Too the left of Drummer is me best mate Ron I met him when we were just two. We grew up next door to each other and been like family since, just across the bar playing the fruity trying to look cool spending his money is T, he likes to address himself as “whats up, its T from the Ge” which is ok sometimes but when he drinks it gets a bit annoying. “Hey boy's we ready for this trip then or what” barked drummer, when Drummer shouts he likes to be heard, “COME ON!”
“Course man, lets get on it, a pint before bus gets here Ron?”
“hey!, what about me?”
“Alright chill drum, i'll get you one, fuck T he can get his own”
“haha, Ow T, YA GETTING NOWT KID”
T didn't hesitate, straight on the scene, thinking he's missing something. You always know when there's a real night of fighting and fucking when T is wearing his silly horse riding cow boy boots, he struts them out like an American ranch horse fighting super hero.
We drank the pints watching T doing a demonstration of how not to line dance, while drummer sat there laughing like a jolly green giant.
Laughter must be contagious and I genuinely think its true that some people hold a talent for spreading contagious laughter. Drummer is one of these people. T is like that too, but he doesn't hold his drink too good, so it normally doesn't last.

Now before I go on, there is a moment I will take to explain how me and T met.
It had been one of those confusing weekends, how ya start out with nothing on the Friday but still end up suffering come Monday, an almost continuous cycle of drink, marijuana and plenty of heart break and crack, unfortunately or fortunate depending on how you look at it, my heart had already been made of stone so mine sat that weekend out. Which meant getting as fucked up as possible with no guilt.
Me and Ron had spent the day staring into an oblivion wondering about the true way of the world of money, where does it come from and how come we don't have any?
On Fridays like these we thanked the times for a social welfare system that was easily cheated, but no more cheated than we were by the capitalist system, so it balances it out.
Standing around outside a pay phone all day trying to get in the call queue for a crisis loan is in no way not hard work, you see work is measured by time, and it took us 4 hours to get an answer.
He got jack shit, but lucky me I got fifty quid, we jumped on the bikes and wheelied all the way to the job centre just in time to get the last giro givie-aways.
Once again the social society wa'llers blocked up the ways of a quick exchange. I couldn't help notice the jangling female darting her eyes round at us, with a bruised arm and fag behind her ear mumbling loudly to anyone who would listen to her “Our Charley is getting out soon, he got six didn't he”.
In here your part of the clan, its as if all the people in the place have a bond with each other, we are all parasites on the system, lie-in just to get our free money.
“You wait till he gets out and see's our new lad, I swear down he'll cut him up, its gonna be off it, he's fuming”
I just looked at Ron, we were both thinking the same thing, in the waiting room it's as if they can all hear your thoughts. The lad opposite following my every-body language, the other dark haired lass in the corner was trying not to catch me see her looking a quick glance, I did and straight away she's sat twisting her hair. The crazy woman still sat there making a public nuisance of herself, and the three tracky wearer's pulling the same scam as me and Ron,
Thank God I was called first, “Stephen Friar” I sat before him on the hard seat bolted to the spot, I didn't say anything and just handed through the glass slip my Passport and license, “sign these three papers where I mark the cross please” He doesn't see people any more, to him we are just service users, “here's your giro, fifty pounds” “nice one mate” I couldn't hide my grin, calmly picking up my ID, and retreating out the fire exit with Ron leisurely strolling behind.

We left the job centre and went straight to the post office to cash it. Next stop a quick phone call to Nige for a bag of green and a short stint in the bohemian company of Sid the hippy, to contrast I must explain to you in the best manner I can the set-up between Nige and Sid, in an almost quintessential form of business their partnership had formed together with Nige's contacts into the world of the cannabis market, such as lots of young bored people who enjoy chilling out and reflecting on the world, and with Sid's old school lifestyle of green finger madness, spending his day's in books of horticulture and wearing nothing but hemp clothing, they found in each a perfect combination to capitalise in anarchism. Sid was an artist who spent his life dreaming of the perfect form, he had no intentions of joining into normal society because he believed it was not ready for him. Indeed he once told me that he was Leonardo Da Vinci in a past life, and in his next life he would be a famous cultivator of the stars, such was Sid. The way it worked was Sid grows it but only for his own use, and of course Nige's use, as it goes Nige happens to like Sid's art so he contributes to donations on his artist website, and in turn Sid grants him useage of his personal vast crop, were all happy.
I phoned Nige to make sure he would inform Sid of our intentions and we would meet Nige later to square up.
We took our bikes round the back alley of Sid's council bungalow and tried the bell a few times, I would say it normally takes about ten goes before he gets up to answer. Now before you start thinking that this was a typical drug dealers house, I can tell you now it isn't. Sid is an artist and we are a completely lucky duo who Nige has introduced to Sid. Nige met Sid in Art college and found Sid to be somewhat of a introverted Hermit who rarely left his home, Nige being the type of person who can connect with any character the world has to offer became good friends with Sid. Most of the actual dealing was Nige, Sid rarely met the end user's. We walked through the kitchen with Sid leading the way into the den, soon as you walked in you could smell the El ninio lingering in the air.
“So Sid, how's it going mate” Ron was in there first, you had to slowly build the chatter up with Sid in-case he began getting paranoid, we know he had no reason to feel like that and Sid was aware himself but it seemed he was always guarding secret knowledge and he was paranoid we might learn it from him.
“yeah, yeah sound mate, come in lad's sit down, just been working on me latest piece”
I looked down near the radiator at the large splashed canvas, a hypnotic painting of brown slashes ripping through a brick wall of colours,
“Is that it then?”
“yeah mate, what do you think?”
“I think it looks like a coloured in brick wall with bit's of shit on it”
“No no it's not shit, they're brown strokes of injustice flashing through the colours of the wall that is built all around our eyes”
I had to agree, when he put's it like that.

I sat down and asked Ron to roll a joint, this was the signal for Sid to pull out the scales and weigh us up an eighth of his latest batch of super loved and cared for Inca Sativa. He pulled out an old biscuit tin full to the brim and sprinkled out two buds and a loose amount on the scales in front of him. A perfect measure first go and its not unusual for Sid to do that either.
“Listen lad's ya know I don't like going out much, so I was wondering if I could borrow ya's for a bit, I need to go and meet my cousin T at the train station, he's coming to stay with me for a bit, but he doesn't know I'm a recluse yet so would you two be able to go meet him for me?”
“What's he like, like?”
“He's sound but I ain't seem him in about 3 years, he's quality though it's our mam's brother's kid”
“Your cousin then”
“yeah” I looked at Ron to see what he thought about this, he just shrugged his shoulders and started making a joint. “Alright then mate, since your a crazy hippy who let's us see your art before the whole world”
“But one thing”
“Whats that?” “You will have to phone him and tell him your coming to meet him”
“Why can't you phone him like?”
“I dare not talk to him yet, cause I ain't seen him in years it will be weird, besides I got no phone”
“Not to worry Sid, Ron's got one with free minutes”
I couldn't for the life of me work out how Sid's brain must work, I never heard such nonsense, Ron passed him the phone and he called T to let him know we would be meeting him, Sid's phone manner was that of a CIA informant you see in the bullshit super budget hollywood fims. We would smoke our joint and venture off with a mission to find Sid's long lost cousin who by the way we had never met so God knows how we were supposed to spot him, 'how about a sign' rockered Ron, 'don't be daft mate' I was trying to imagine in my head what a cousin of Sid's could look like. “I'll tell ya what Ste, I'll just ring him when we get there”

We arrived at the train station with about ten minutes to spare, it had been a while since I had been to the train station, last time I was here I was dropping some scally off on her last train home. I'd spent the day with her drunken in the dingy den, we called it that because of its tuesday 2 o clock karaoke sessions, considering most of the earning society were at work during those hours you would be surprised to see how many people actually turn up, anyhow I met this lass, Christine I think they called her and ended up sat in their listening to her sing all day, now don't get me wrong she had a set off lungs on her, and she was by far the best singer to get up that day, but she was not a pretty sight. I must have been steaming by the time I met her, cause she looked half decent, it was only the next day in the Dingy Den when I started sobering up that I seen how hideous she actually was, she must have been about a size 16, which doesn't bother me, but by the time her make up started rubbing off I seen her face for what it was, A dog wouldn't of licked it, saying that, I fucking did.
After listening to her rendition of Perfect moment I couldn't help myself, it had been about three weeks since I last got me leg over so I decided to dip into the murky depths and commit a crime of horrors, with a demonic amount of alcohol in both our systems it wasn't long before we were frantically licking the face off each other at the back of the Den, without any hesitation she grabbed me by the hand and led me into the disabled toilets. Its makes me shudder to think of the depravity I get myself into, anyhow straight after the Dingy den I decided to be a gentleman and escort her to the train station, as fate would have it who do I see but my beautiful ex girlfriend, I could of died, she just looked me up and down, I knew what she was thinking. She had done it, she had seen the day she longed for, the moment when she saw me for the lowly animal of man I was. I just smiled like the devil I really was and dumped Christine on the platform.

I turned to Ron and told him to give Sid's cousin a ring.
'Alright mate this is Ron, I'm a friend of your Sid's he's asked us to come meet ya, -Im just on the train mate, pulling in to your station, I got the fucking inspectors on me case, I'll explain in a bit, -what?”
“Whats up like mate, is he coming or what?”
“Fuck knows Ste, he said something about the inspectors then put the phone down, come on lets wait near the platform” In the background we could hear the sound of the train pulling in, the station was one of the larger ones with about 11 platforms separated with bridges, and a silly miniature coffee shop at the bottom of every other stairwell. The bastard train companies in their new found capitalist wisdom set up little never ending vending machines nearly 5 metres apart all along the platform, but not one litter bin for the rubbish. I always felt ladge when it came to littering, but I was also a sucker for a quick snack, my pockets always came away better off with at least an Aero wrapper in one. We held back so we could see which carriage T would be coming out off, Ron spotted him first, no doubt about it, I looked up the platform to carriage C as the transport police made there way through the crowd just in time to see the lad make a bolt for it, he shook off the inspector and darted off across the tracks, I just thought to myself what a crazy bastard. Who in their right mind escapes across an 11 platform station directly across the tracks. I checked Ron on the shoulder an told him to go and get the bikes, I took his phone and started off out the station, fortunately the transport police decided against following someone so desperate that they would risk their life just so they won't get interrogated about why they didn't pay their fare. Once I was sure that no one had followed I called T up.
“Alright mate, this is Ste, is that you who just been chased by the tranny coppers? -Yeah mate, fuck that shit like, were you now like mate? I'm just behind ya at the top of the road, me mate Ron as gone to get our bikes, wait up and I'll catch ya up – Alright in a bit mate.”
As comparisons go the only description I could apply for my first encounter with T was one of sheer astonishment, his lucky-go attitude was perfect for a life on the run, which was just as well considering his previous example of how to escape from the law. I approached him with a weary eye, not to say I wasn't street wise but he was still a complete stranger so he deserved to be weighed up just like any other man. “Hows it going, kid, ya alright, names T, you must be our Sid's mate are ya” I continued the walk getting to know T a bit better, it was easy to tell he was a free spirit, he held a high head, and composed himself in a dignified manner, not talking about himself to much and always being careful to introduce you to your reply, in all honesty he came across as a fair down to earth kinda lad. Ron caught us up and we spent the walk informing T of his long lost cousin Sid's current situation, T was cool about it all and found some joy in the state of mind of his dear cousin Sid the Hippy.