Day 2213

Day 2213 Wednesday August 16th 2023 Salisbury

 

Back to Salisbury via Southampton Central where, sitting in the waiting room, mopping my brow, an older woman two seats from me says “It’s hot, isn’t it?” I say it is but not as hot as over in Europe. “Oh well, we mustn’t moan about it.” “We will though!” She looked very familiar…maybe she’s come up to me in Winchester.

In Salisbury High Street, it’s very warm and very slow…a man comes up after Wouldn’t It Be Nice. He’s got HATE tattoo’ed on the knuckles of his right hand and a can of Pepsi in his left.

He – “Do you play anything else?”

Me – “Yeah, I play a lot of other stuff?”

“Yeah? Great…well, sorry to interrupt you, carry on.”

Phew, I was getting some bad vibes (man) when he came up ; looks can deceive.

After an hour and ten minutes, I just about made the train fare back, which is a bit crap…but at least the card machine worked, although it took a few minutes to fire up and accept a £3 payment from a very patient young Chinese woman.

I had my packed lunch on the steps of the guildhall in the market square then went to the underground toilet on the other side. It was 20p a go and a woman behind the window.

“Just one please” says I, putting a pound on the counter.

“Twenty pee for one, hehe” says she, handing me my 80p change.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, love, hehe.”

 

Back to the high street to refill my water bottle then down to Fish Row…and hark, what do I see? Only a bunch of suitcases outside a shop and one is £37 (reduced from £47) and this is what I’m desperate for, because the rucksack with the amp, bookbox, and everything else is going to break my poor brittle 61 year old back any day now, maybe even today. So I go in the shop, have a chat to the woman at the till, she clears a table, gets the case from outside and opens it up on the table. Meanwhile, I’ve disgourged the contents of my rucksack, ready to see if they fit in the case…and success! So I stick the rucksack in the case, pay the £37, saying to the woman “You’ve saved my life with this case, or my back, at least” and I’m off down the road to set up at my secret spot (of substantial coinage accumulation) where no one else goes.

Unfortunately, there’s bugger all coinage for almost an hour, maybe £2.50. But then I do James Bond and everything changes – there’s a fiver and a few pound coins and 50p’s. So Bond is instantly awarded Song Of The Day status.”Shplendid” as Connery would say.

 

Next up, a well-dressed and hatted lady of around 80. “You’re very good, aren’t you, I’ve been listening up there…do you know any Shadows? Apache?”

“Wonderful Land, I do.”

“Oh, I don’t know that one…any Elvis?”

“You’re in luck, I do Can’t Help Falling In Love…and in the original key Elvis did it in.”

“Ooh, can you play it for me – and I’ll imagine Elvis singing to me…just to ME!”

“Of course…” I play it and she closes her eyes and appears to be having some sort of orgasm. I’m not kidding myself though – I’m sure it’s the image of the King singing just to HER and not my playing. This doesn’t bother me at all because the main thing is she leaves a bit of coinage at the end. How cynical of me, of course I’m thrilled I’ve provided a near orgasmic experience to a woman of such advanced years. I have to ask her name. “It’s Margaret and yours?”

“I’m Marvin.”

“Oh, that’s a nice name…well, thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure, nice to meet you Margaret.”

I started another song and watched her walk off, totally composed. It was only hours later when I realised it was the anniversary of Elvis’s death.