Diary Of A Busker Day 40 Friday February 11th Winchester High Street (opposite WH Smiths) Time: 11:55 – 4:15pm.
I couldn’t busk for a few days, hence the long session today. I began the procceedings in the usual manner, with The Third Man, naturally. Everytime I’m at this spot, there is a girl holding up an Asgard placard outside WH Smiths. I don’t think she can hear me, as she’s always wearing headphones/earmuffs. I never see her with anyone, but now there is a young guy talking to her and pointing at me. Maybe he’s seen the article – he’s coming over. “That’s from Spongebob Squarepants!” “What? No, it’s from a film…” He interupts me, “No, it’s from Spongebob Squarepants!” “No, it’s from an old film called The Third Man, but I think there was an arrangement in the Spongebob thing.” “Are you sure?” “Yep, it’s from 1949.” He walks away saying “Play some slipper!” “Sorry, what?” “Play some SLIPPER!” Or something like that. Anyway, he’s gone. Good.
A man comes up. Last night he drank two bottles of gin with his friend. They are both businessmen and have just set up some internet company. This guy loves my playing and is promising to do great things for me. He isn’t from Winchester, but is here visiting his “aged mother and my children, who are younger than my grandchildren, you know what I mean?” He says he can get me 5 or 6 gigs in Bordeaux. I won’t get paid, but it’ll be a nice holiday. I can stay with him and his wife. I tell him about the article. “Hampshire Chronicle? What’s that? Listen, there are two ways of getting a million quid; one – you get someone to give you a million, two – you get a million people to each give you a pound…” He returns later with his aged mother, “I’ve seen you before, I read your article.” She hasn’t given me any money before, she does now.
Another woman says “I usually walk past you because you don’t look homeless.” Later on, it’s Delia with her trolley. “Is this you?” She gets the newspaper out of her trolley all folded up right so you can see the article. “Yes, it is Delia.” “I didn’t know if you had seen it. I thought you might like it!” (isn’t Delia sweet, I think). I tell her how the article came about. “Well, I was telling my son about the guitar player in the town and he went upstairs and came down with this…” I say yes, I’ve been keeping a diary and I tell her about the man who asked me not to write about him. I ask her if she minds me writing about her. “Oh no, I’m old, I don’t care what anyone thinks about me! Say it’s Delia from St. Cross.” Delia was quite adamant I get the St. Cross in. She got a pound coin from her purse. I don’t want it, she gave me some money the last time. She ignores me, “I haven’t much to give you, I’m on a pension. I can’t do it everytime!” “I don’t want it, Delia!” She goes over the story of when she saw Alida Valli at the opera house, as I’m not sure of some of it. She likes telling this story. It’s a good little story. I like Delia (from St. Cross), she’s a vey nice, lovely lady.
Earnings: £44.45p.