Diary Of A Busker Day 2172 Wednesday June 14th 2023 Broad Street, Reading
Another hot day but there’s a huge bit of shade in front of the huge John Lewis shop. Bloody hell, but Reading’s noisy – there’s some generator humming near by, dogs barking, babies screaming. One woman parked her buggy behind me and the sprog let rip for five minutes – “WHAAAAA” went the monster to all of Broad Street, “AHHHH” went the voice inside my 61 year old head.
There’s an infestation of drongos nearby, all with dogs. They cross in front of me, one stops and says “Can I have two pounds to buy some food for me dog?” I shake my head. “Fuck off then” he says.
And now, the main event. A drongo carrying a filthy quilt and drinking from a plastic pint of milk bottle staggers up. “You shouldn’t be here, that’s her pitch (the Big Issue woman sitting 50 feet to my left)…you’ve got to leave.”
“Look, if someone wants to buy the magazine, they will, and if someone wants to give me a coin, they will.”
“No, that’s wrong, we look out for each other…she’s me auntie (untrue)…I want you to get out of here. Pack up and get out.” He was right in my face and getting more and more aggressive.” The woman was beckoning him to stop having a go at me. This went on for a couple of minutes and then a man much older than me intervened – he was almost head to head with this arsehole – “Leave him a lone and let him do his job, you’re a bully, now get lost!” The arsehole carried on…the man carried on and eventually the arsehole left. I thanked the man. I said I was a coward and couldn’t have done that. He said “He’s a bully. I’m used to dealing with people like him. When I was at school, anyone being bullied used to call for me.”
A John Lewis security guard had called the police and two officers aged about 18, turned up just as this bloke came back to have another go at me. He then had a go at the police and then went off again, saying to me he was going to get “the boys” on me. The police asked if I’d like to make a statement but I said I’d wasted enough time already so they took my name, address and phone number and said they’d phone in a couple of days to see how I felt about it. “We know him well. He’s a complicated person, doesn’t like to see other people doing things, making something of their life. He’s all mouth.”
“All mouth? Well he was really aggresive and I can’t be doing with all that, I had it in Winchester last week. I’m out here trying to make a living.”
“Well, if it happens again, you can call 999 or go into one of the shops and tell the security.”
“But that means I have to leave all my stuff here – it takes me a few minutes to pack up, I can’t just suddenly run off to get help and leave my stuff here.”
Anyway, a bit of a shite time but I did have a handful of very nice compliments to ease the pain. One woman drongo came up and said “Ooh, I love that one you just played, Alcatraz.” “Oh yes…Albatross.”
I got through the two hours, went into the Oracle, to the toilet, sat down underneath the escalator and had my sandwich and discovered cucumber and mustard is a bad combination. Back out and down the road for an hour in the blazing sun for a measly £4. Fuck that, went back to the first spot and asked the Big Issue woman if she minded me doing twenty minutes. No, of course not, so I did that then packed up and bought a magazine from her for a fiver and that was that.