i see a red door and i want it painted black

London. Last week. Waited 32 hours on the street. Im second in line. Cold like a biatch. Weird people. Bad food but then Hannah delivered Prêt A Monger goodness. Staring at red buses for hours on end. Lost all feeling in my nose. 4am conversations with random drunks. Stupid security. Interesting conversations. Some woman tells me im “fcuking stupid” for lining up. I may or may not have told her to “suck it” in response.

 

Worth it? Hells to the yes.

 

And then after the 32 hours, there he is. All cool as he only can be. Media frenzy. He tells them to fcuk off so he can meet some fans. Then i say hi and thanks for the riffs. He tells me to “rock on”. Signs my book. I leave – theres 500 people waiting for their turn with the man. Afterwards, conversations with the PR people. They cool. They like moi. They take me back to Keef. I meet him again – even get an introduction – albeit ever so quickly. Keith tells me something that confirmed an idea. I cant let him down now can I? Time will tell.