Diary Of A Busker Day 675 Sunday December 7th 2014 Winchester (1. Opposite Oxfam, Time: 1:27-2:26pm, 2. Opposite Pavilion, Time: 2:36-4:08pm).
Back in, in a last ditch attempt to put some more money in the account tomorrow morning before the coach to Heathrow. I thought I’d head for the Pavilion spot, as it was OK there yesterday. But Young Sam was there again, so I had to go down the arse-end…and it was pretty bad. Loads of people, no money. £7.66p for one hour. I stopped when it started raining but I was going to stop anyway. An hour’s long enough to not make anything.
Only one incident of interest. A mustachioed man about 60, well-dressed in a country-ish tweed-ish suit with waistcoat. In fact, he looked alot like the gay uncle in Withnail And I. He stopped to watch from across the road, then comes over and stands in front of me. Then he goes back but comes over as I finish The Third Man and says ‘I was wondering if you’d want to join a band. I do Elvis numbers’. He says he’s ‘won stacks of stuff’ – what, for playing Elvis songs? Please God, don’t tell me he’s a ‘look-a-like’ tribute act! I remember that thing zomeone zaid (ha) – ‘If there was a god, Elvis would still be alive and there’d be no Elvis impersonators’. Anyway, I managed to put him off. I reeled off my ‘I spent 35 years in bands/groups and my hearing is terrible because of that and I’m just about OK with this little amp here’ – tapping the little Micro-Cube on its shoulder. The Elvis bloke said ‘Oh, that’s OK’, and went off. No contribution.
Up the road, Sam had gone, so I set up…and it wasn’t nearly as good as yesterday, although £15 for an hour and a half is the usual rate. Most of that came during the last half hour. Before that, it was terrible. Very depressing. Speaking of Elvis, those two middle-aged Elvis women were again at their table outside the posh place on my right – La Place bistro, I think. Just after Can’t Help Falling In Love, one comes over with a huge (fake?) fur thing around her collar and says ‘Know any Elvis?’ Of course, I fell for it and said ‘What? I just did Elvis!’, so she starts laughing. I say ‘Oh yeah, right’. No contribution from her either, although she asked if I’d recovered from ‘the assault’. (More people than I thought have heard about that). I said I had. That was easy, I was thinking. Recovering from depression caused by no one giving any money takes a hell of alot longer.
Ian walked by, pulling at his pockets, indicating he had no money. A first for him! It must have been the order of the day.
Earnings: £22.71p (still no CD sales!)