Diary Of A Busker Day 36 Wednesday February 2nd Winchester High Street (next to Accessorize, Time: 12:30 – 3:30pm).
Another new location, in front of a big old brown wooden door that looks like it has not been opened for many a year. I am hoping it remains in this state for my duration. I like this door. I feel secure in front of it. An almost mild day, and I am able to play pretty much non-stop. The money took a long time to accumulate and worked out at about £6.50 an hour.
About an hour in, a lady comes up, “That’s a nice guitar. You know, me and some friends are going up to Snowdon for a walking holiday with some guitars, what do you call them…acoo, something, what are they?” I help her out, “Acoustic guitars?” “Yes, acoustic guitars. People play them as we walk. It’s a walking acoustic holiday, you know.” A Walking Acoustic Holiday. I’ve never heard of one of them before but there’s a first time for everything, they say.
Later, a middle aged man comes up during The Third Man. “That’s a very nice guitar.” (My guitar must look more shiny than usual today). “Do you have a guitar?” I ask. “Oh no, I don’t play myself, but I have got some friends who play – Eric Clapton, Dave Gilmour. In fact I know them quite well, they’re good friends of mine – see them all the time.” What’s this? – he knows famous guitar players?! I think quick – “Here’s a copy of my album! It’s had loads of good reviews! You can have it for nothing!” “Oh no, you mustn’t.” says the man. “Oh yes, I must!” say I. “And Bruce Dickinson.” he adds to his list. “What, the orange guy? Dickinson’s Real Deal, him?” “No, you know, the singer. He’s a singer.” “Oh yes, he’s very famous. He’s in…what’s the name of his group? I can’t think…I know they play quite heavy, loud rock, don’t they? And they’ve been around for a long time, haven’t they? Who are they?” This man can’t remember either! He looks at my shoes, “What make are those?” “Samuel Windsor, two pairs – sixty quid. They’re the most comfortable shoes ever, but they fall apart quickly.” “What size are you?” he asks. “Ten.” “Oh. I’ve got this pair of shoes, size 9 1/2 here.” He’s got them in a bag. “My sister bought them for me in 2002, and they’re the wrong size. I’ve taken them up to Russell and Bromley, but they don’t do that line anymore. These have got a sort of frilly bit on, they won’t have them back.” I think about his predicament. “You need to put them up on ebay. Do you have a computer?” He doesn’t and he doesn’t know what ebay is, however his neighbour is a programmer and he’s going to ask him to put the shoes up for auction.
About halfway through my session I am bombarded by clumps of soil and debris. It’s the birds throwing it out of the guttering above. Yep, they’re busy little buggers.
Earnings: £19.81p.
Note: The man with the famous friends came up to me a few days later, after the feature in The Hampshire Chronicle was published. He said he’d read it but didn’t want me to ever write about HIM. I said I wouldn’t, which is sort of true as I haven’t mentioned his name! Interesting, though – it seems people enjoy reading about other people but don’t want other people to read about them. Not In My Back Yard.
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