Diary Of A Busker Day 209

Diary Of A Busker Day 209 Tuesday March 13th 2012 Winchester High Street 1. Opposite O2, Time: 2:15-3:20pm, 2. Corner of Marks & Spencer, Time: 3:50-5pm
I’ve only been playing a few minutes when the unmistakable boom of a voice heralds the approach of…Maurice – ‘LA LA LA, LA LA…LA LA LA, LA LA!’ he bellows, to the tune of When I’m Sixty-Four. He sits on the bench, next to the Asgard Girl – so named as she’s there everyday, holding the sign for the tattoo parlour. ‘YOU HAVEN’T COME ‘ROUND FOR FOOD – YOU SAID YOU WERE COMING ‘ROUND!’ ‘I said I’d phone you, Maurice!’ I shout back. ‘WELL, COME ‘ROUND TONIGHT – I’VE GOT A NICE LEG OF LAMB, PRUNES, COUS COUS…’ He carries on, singing and getting out of breath and when I get to the end of the song and play the last line, he thinks I’m starting it again – ‘YOU’RE NOT PLAYING IT AGAIN, ARE YOU?!’ He coughs – ‘I’m getting old, all these cigarettes…’ He turns to the Asgard Girl – ‘AND SHE’S ALWAYS READING! WAR AND PEACE, IS IT? WHAT IS IT YOU’RE READING?’ Poor Asgard Girl smiles and holds up her book, which isn’t War And Peace. After some more singing/shouting – we’re on Ol’ Man River and Maurice gets up and starts walking away. ‘COME ‘ROUND FOR FOOD!’ he bellows before resuming the shouting –  ‘HE KEEPS ON ROLLING AAAA-LONNNNNNG…!’ About an hour in, there’s someone else shouting, up at The Buttercross – a man standing on a foot square/two inch high wooden platform. He’s holding an auctioneer’s hammer. ‘Five pounds, do I hear more? Six pounds? No? Going for five pounds…’ People walk by looking bemused. After a few minutes I pack up and walk up towards him ‘…it’s going, going…gone! Thank you for attending today’s auction of selling Britain!’
It’s been a bit slow here; I’ve got only £8 and been here more than an hour and it’s getting cold…I warm myself up in the HMV Shop then set up outside Marks & Spencer – a spot I haven’t played in ages…and it’s pretty slow here, as well. Maybe it’s the weather – grey all over and windy, especially down here. I see a few of my regulars but not one of them contributes, including one who holds his phone first to my guitar (the idiot), then to the front of my amplifier (he’s cottoning on) as I’m playing The Third Man, which I think is worth at least a 50p piece as I’ve contributed one of the more the memorable parts of his telephone exchange.
Earnings: £16.77

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