randomstory

Random story: The One With The Tattoo Hiding

Right, so if you’re ever reading this Mum or Dad… stop. Stop reading! Go and do something else. Please?

So I’m going to have to disclose that I have a (small) tattoo of a treble clef on my bum to tell this story. I got a matching one to my sister, not just because we’re massively into music but also because the symbol is made up of the first letters of my brother, sister and my names. I can’t exactly show you as that is too much effort, but trust me on that one. Anyway, the parents know now but think I got it after my first year of university. So when this story is set I was under 18 and basically would have been in a LOT of trouble. Anyway – tattoo, cameras, parents, trapped on a boat… buckle your seatbelts.

So we were on a family trip on a Mediterranean cruise (yes, I’m aware that I have an amazing and blessed life.) Each evening there was some form (if not forms) of entertainment going on (sidenote: go on a cruise – they’re amazing.) So one night my sister and I were going to go to the ‘Adult Game Show’ whilst my parents went to watch a pianist elsewhere, but before heading there we broke out into a huge argument over some major betrayal (not really – it was over hair straighteners.) (I need to stop with the brackets.) Anyway, I stormed off to the game show like a strong independent black woman that don’t need no man. As I waited for the show to start in a sea of strangers, I spotted my sister on the opposite side of the stadium-style hall. I don’t think she was close enough to see my evil glare, but I was hoping she’d feel it. Good old teenage angst. The show began.

The presenter walked out onto the stage with the camera crew, announcing that the game show would be filmed to screen and made available to buy on DVD (probably for mad amounts of money, can I use this as an excuse to complain about capitalism? Not really, but why not. Always complain about capitalism.) Anyway, he said that the audience would be split into five sections, and a male and female team captain would be needed to act for each team. He began by asking the section to my left. Then, he moved on to my section. WHY THE FUCK NOT. I ran down the steps (did I mention the stadium-like style thing?) and climbed over the barrier onto the stage. “MEEEEEEEEE!” shouted 16 year old me. I wasn’t even meant to be there at this Adult game show. Whoops #fuckthesystem. As he moved round the sections, my evil sister (jk) witnessed my badassness from across the room. What did she do? DECIDE TO TAKE THIS FIGHT OUT ON THE STAGE. It was on.

So basically (this is where I’m going to struggle) the game involved different things being read out by the hot presenter (Abel mi Belle,) which then each section/team had to produce and take to the back of the stage to the presenter and cameras. Some examples include… three men in bras and lipgloss, or a woman wearing green that can do the splits, etc. The team that got there the fastest would get 5 points, the second would get 4 points, the third would get 3, and so on. Does that explain it well enough? Because the male and female team captains of each team were on the stage already, it was obviously faster if one of us could do it as we would get there faster. And this was war.

‘A FEMALE WITH A TATTOO BELOW THE WAIST!’ Abel mi Belle announced. We legged it. We hitched up our nice dresses. We showed Abel mi Belle and the camera our tattoos/bums. I’m not sure which of us got there first or if we got there at the same time, but we beat the others. Anyway, we didn’t really think much of it, to be honest. We carried on the game and it was hilariously fun. I think my section got 3rd place and I got a bronze medal (but I still beat my sister!)

By this point, straighteners had been long forgotten and my sister and I proceeded to go for a sober dance at the pool party on that night. I actually remember the strange sensation of being aware that people looking at me as we wandered round. Then a few people started to approach us. ‘You’re the sisters with the matching tattoos!’ a Spanish lady exclaimed. Over that night, people kept smiling, waving, asking to see our tattoos again and a couple asked for photos with us… -.-

It kind of puts a downer on your 15(5) minutes of fame to have to worry about people recognising you when you’re with your family. And how to explain any incidents?! The next day was a sea day (meaning the boat was not stopping anywhere that day) meaning we had a full day trapped on a boat with my parents and the possibility of people coming up to us ‘matching-tattoo-rival-competitor-sisters.’ To make matters worse, the game show was being shown on the TV on a loop ALL DAY. We had to distract them from TVs, hide remote controls, and prevent my dad from buying the DVD when a waving ‘fan’ cause us to confess that we acted as team captains. We managed, though! Now maybe one day they’ll read this… fingers crossed they don’t! If you do… it’s a joke.

‘A CHRISTMAS JOKE!’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJ38jTQcO1k

 

 

Random story: The One Where I Fell Into A Lake

It was a beautiful summer’s day in London. The sun was shining, the cider was flowing, the water in Regent’s Park lake was glistening. Birds were singing, people were dancing. Literally, people were dancing for some salsa session under a beautiful marque. Am I setting the scene well enough yet? Basically, imagine a perfect post-exam day in the south of France (not England.) With lots of colourful flowers everywhere. To top things off, I was hangover free on this spectacular Saturday afternoon! A group of us strolled down the grass to sit by the riverbank, as you would when you’re on pretend holiday in the south of France. As we relaxed in the hazy heavenly warmth, a pedalo in the distance caught my (mildly intoxicated) eyes. To my surprise, it came closer and closer towards us and the steep river bank, clearly not intended for docking purposes. ‘We’re trying to get people on our boat and no one has done it!’ exclaimed one of the men dressed as a sailor. The two sailors had fancy glass champagne glasses in their hands, a champagne bottle and two empty seats behind them. Without missing a beat my sister’s boyfriend jumped up and leapt onboard. For a few seconds, time stood still. My heart leapt. ‘I will regret not getting on this boat for the rest of my life,’ I thought to myself, with more profoundness than I’d ever experienced at any other point in my 21 years. Just when you’d think I’d used up my wisdom-ration for the year, I even passed my phone to my friend. I stood up. I stepped forward. I fell.

So there I am, on this beautiful summer’s day, in Regents Park lake past my waist, scrambling onto the back of the boat which had moved about a metre whilst I had been… faffing, frankly. The many, many people on the grass looked on. I managed to get onto the boat, minus a shoe. You would think that this is a story I look back on and cringe with embarrassment… but you would be wrong. Very, very wrong. In fact, I think it might have been one of the best days of my entire life. Not only did the sun dry the clean, clear water from my clothes and ends of my hair (just kidding – the water was gross but I made it out infection free,) but the sailors pulled out two more glasses out of their rucksack and kept refilling them with champagne as if I was an elegant queen, not some shameless student alcoholic that had just fallen into a lake to try and get free alcohol. We had a wonderful half an hour or so, swapping seats to help peddle, knocking into young teens on romantic dates, laughing, drinking, baking in the gentle heat…

When it came to the end of our fairytale adventure, we returned to our starting place… The Place Where I Fell Into The Lake. My sister’s boyfriend hopped off and I followed. The two sailors decided to also hop off and abandon their boat, as cool free spirits that get dressed up as sailors and get a pedalo with champagne and glasses and strangers would do. As one of them stepped off the boat and onto the bank, the boat moved backwards slightly and… SPLASH. The lucky audience got to witness our second fall into the lake. He was sort of hanging onto the bank with his arms, with his legs on the boat, with his torso forming a bridge over the water. At this point, I really should have asked him to find my shoe. We had a good laugh and a group photo so we could all document that day. Not that I’ll ever forget! 10/10 – would do again. Also, walking home with no shoes on in London was surprisingly absolutely fine. Only a few funny looks from small children…