A “Me” Update… and The Crustation Guy story
Argh! I apologize for not updating this sooner, I’ve been working like a dog (I just wrote, “god”. Boy, was that an overstatement even if it was a typo) at a company called Hub Media editing short website videos for companies such as Unilever and different trade shows in the area. It’s been interesting, mainly because I’ve been learning quite a bit about Final Cut Pro and also, since the job is “part time” and I’m here all day, I’ve been doing other career research.
Primarily I’ve been looking into teaching in London but in order to do that, I’ll have to go back to school. Luckily, if I did the classes in London it would only be another year of school, while a lot of that time will be student teaching. However, that program wouldn’t start until September, and so when my current visa runs out I may end up shipping back to the States until then. That is, if I don’t get my work permit sponsored.
I’ve been doing career research in that area too which provides me much to do over the course of a day. Set something up to output or render in Final Cut (the video editing program I’m currently using) and then check the email, look at job sites, or send off CVs (that’s a resume in London) to different companies. I’ve had a lot of interest, but many are afraid of the work permit situation. I don’t blame them, I don’t have £350 pounds lying around either.
ANYDANGway… I promised a story about the crustation man, and I shall deliver. I’ll also update the radio show when I get home, including Jamie’s first debut on the show. The Classic Chronicles does happen every weekend from 10 am until 12 am GMT, so that’s 6 hours ahead of you folks in the central time zone and 7 hours ahead of you all in the mountains.
Ok, so check in the sidebar for that later, now… onto the Crustation Man.
Now, you already know half of the punch line so I’ll try and tell the story the best I can…
Before this job I worked at a job that was in Shephard’s Bush. We live in Waltham Forest, just north of Hackney (these are all boroughs of London) which is located just past the north-east corner of the “City of London”. It just so happened that Shephard’s Bush resided in a borough both south and west of London-proper (if you will…). Add those two together and the sum is: long bloody train journey for yours’ truly. With a subsequent bus ride to and from the tube (synonomous with train, that’s what they call the underground here) my “journey” one way was about an hour-and-a-half. After 8 hours of work, that made for a long day.
It was on the tail-end of a train ride home from Shephard’s Bush that I came across this man. He appeared as one who crosses the path of many who ride the train – the slightly stumbling drunk guy. With a sizable package wrapped in his bosom (he wasn’t fat, but he did have a bosom) he stumbled over the gap between the train and the platform and began his train ride. I was very close to my stop, and I had migrated towards the door and was at the moment standing right next to it. I expected him to smell of booze but he didn’t quite, his smell was something I couldn’t place right away but I knew it was familiar to me.
As there were a few others standing in the entry area to this particular train, it seemed his drunken tunnel vision prevailed and he stayed right in front of the door, right under my nose. Not a shabbily (is that a word?) dressed man, his long grey suitcoat came toward me and I held the poor stumbling man from falling as the train lurched ahead. He mumbled a, “thanks,” to me and promptly dropped about half his cargo. The man across the train entryway leaned over and helped drunk guy collect his belongings. And as drunk men sometimes do, he took this gesture as friendship and began speaking with this poor fellow.
Geographically, let me orientate you to the situation about to unfold. The drunk man’s back was to me, mumbling away at the man across the entryway. I also had a good view of a few younger women seated behind him, and they seemed to be looking with curious intent at what the drunken man was holding. All of a sudden, I noticed the kind gentleman pull away and move quickly across the car. At the same time, the young women watching grimacd and stood up, making surprised noises.
Worried I was in for a fight or something I braced myself and stared as the drunken man flung himself around and down into one of the now unoccupied seats. There he sat, cradling a huge live lobster in his arms like a newborn baby, dropping all of his other packages to the ground. With a sad, pouting look on his face he exclaimed in his best drunken english…
“NOBODY UNDERSTANDS CRUSTATIONS!!”
As nothing else could be said after such a claim, no one said anything. A moment was spent in shock and perhaps a bit of reverence for such a strange thing to have just taken place. Maybe some of these people on the train throught for an instant that they should be more understanding of our invertibrate friends of the sea. I hoped I wasn’t alone. This man, could conceiveably have been able to empathize with this… thing. I wouldn’t have said he was wrong. I didn’t I said nothing and was glad my stop was next. It now stunk on the train.
Many people followed me off, even if it wasn’t their stop. Most likely to wait for a train that wasn’t sympathizing with lobsters. I wished I could have stayed on longer to procure some information on just how to understand such a creature. Perhaps tomorrow.
Crazy things happen on the Underground. It’s true.
Thanks again for everyone’s support. I promised you a new Classic Chronicles and I will deliver this weekend. I’ve got Jamie’s debut all ready to upload.
Love and Good thoughts to you all!
PS: Spell check is broke. Sorry, all you English teachers… I mean no disrespect!