Diary Of A Busker Day 69 Tuesday March 29th Winchester High Street (1. corner of Marks And Spencer, Time: 1:28-3pm, 4:45-5:15pm, 2. opposite WH Smiths, Time: 3:05-4:05pm.)
I set up and collect £2 almost straight away then it starts to rain. I rig down and take shelter opposite near Bertie the flowerman who again asks me where I’m from. “I live in Greenhill Road – but I’m not FROM there. Where do you live?” He smiles and says “Well, Sutton Scotney – in a caravan.” “Oh, right. I know Sutton Scotney… it’s nice up there!” It stops raining, I set up again and it immediately starts again. I can’t be bothered rigging down again so quickly move everything three feet to the right, into the covered doorway of Marks And Spencer. I start playing but feel a bit self conscious and think maybe I’m not supposed to set up here – private property and all that. Just then a couple of policemen walk by and smile at me. So there you go – if they’re not bothered. It stops raining again so I drag my stuff back three feet to the left. Well, one foot out then three feet left.
One of my regulars turns up smelling strongly of drink. Not tea, but he offers to buy me a cup of tea or coffee. I politely decline the offer. He insists rather aggresively that I accept his offer – “I SAID, do you want a cup of TEA?!” I again politely decline and he storms off! Bertie comes over – “Do you know that guy?” “Yeah, I see him all the time. He always wants to buy me stuff – I’m not homeless!” After a few minutes this man comes back and although not exactly throwing, abruptly drops a sandwich – a roasted chicken and tomato panini to be precise – next to me and walks off without a word. I decide to speak to him about this later.
A young guy walks by with an instrument case – I’m guessing it’s a trumpet. He stops and listens and then starts talking about busking in Chichester and Oxford – “Oxford’s the best – there’s millions of people everywhere and from all over the world.” A bit like Dudley, I think. Ha Ha! “You can make three-hundred quid a day there.” “Really? Where’s the best place to go there?” “Right where the HMV Shop is.” he says, causing me to wince – he has adopted the unfortunate habit currently in vogue – of sounding his “h”s not as “aitch” which is correct but as “haitch”, which is incorrect. Aitch is the name for the letter, not a guide for phonetic pronunciation, my friend!
Money-wise, I’m doing ok – about £14 in an hour and a half. Even so, I decide to move up the road for a change of scenery. I sell another of my cd albums. I have to thank Marcus for this. He bought one a few days ago and has turned up here. George, the guy in his seventies who wants to get me some gigs has turned up too. They are both sitting on the bench opposite. I don’t think they know each other but I can see them start to talk and then clap after I finish a song. George then gets up and goes into WH Smiths, Marcus comes over and says he’s told George about my album and he’s gone to get some change and do I have a cd with me? I sure do. Meanwhile my recently aggresive drink-sodden regular has turned up. “Look” I say, “I really do appreciate you wanting to buy me stuff, but I always have something just before I come out here and I don’t need it – I don’t want it, you’re better off saving your money.” “Yeah, but…oh alright, I won’t buy you anything anymore. I’ll give you money.” “I’m not homeless, you know – I’ve got food!” “No, I know. I mean you’re always very presentable, you know – smart.” “Yeah, I DO make an effort! Thanks for noticing!” “Ok, I won’t buy you anything else.”
I leave this spot just after 4 o’clock as I have to see the manager of Blanc – the posh eatery, up the road about a gig. …I see the lady manager, no – they have no need of my services, not now and not at any future date. Oh well, I was going to head on home but decide to return to the noisy corner for a short session. Before I start, I have another chat with Bertie. He reckons I need to do away with my grey beret and get a bucket for my money – “You’ll get more with a bucket. I’ve seen ’em all here – all the buskers, and some of them are crap. But they get alot more people giving them money – the ones with a bucket do. Get a fire bucket or something. Y’see, people coming ’round the corner – a lot of them won’t see your hat, but a bucket – especially if you shove it out a few feet in front of you – people haven’t got to go right up to you – they can throw something in as they’re walking by. It’s alot easier – and the kids love to put something in a bucket. That’s only my opinion – ’cause I’ve seen ’em all down here and like I say, some are real crap!” He’s convinced me. I’m gonna get myself a bucket.
After I pack up, I’m walking up the road and hear a very loud, trumpety kind of sound from afar. As I get near WH Smiths, I see it’s young “haitch” – the Oxford busker. He’s playing an unusual looking trumpet or cornet…or something. It’s very long and it’s very loud. I also see he is selling some cds. They’re propped up in his strange instrument case. But the man on the cd covers doesn’t look like my “haitch” Oxford busker guy – the man on the cds has long hair – “haitch”‘s hair is shorter and “haitch” is much younger. As I get closer, I see why – these cds are by the million selling instrumental artist Kenny G! “H” is selling “G”s cds!
Earnings: £48.00