I'll remember in a minute...

This is more like it. An adventure in Tooting Bec. Only I couldn’t really find one tonight. And I wanted one. So I hung around and dawdled for a bit.

It was raining. I like the rain. Rain is really designed for people like me and people happy for me to go on about it. These are the people who are prepared to try and understand. I’ve always loved rain. First it was to suit my standard issue teenaged misery. But now it’s a comfort thing with the opposite effect. Perfect for adventures.

Still nothing though. I hung around outside Tooting Bec’s best non-corner corner shop. I knew I needed something. Perhaps the adventure was in there? I just couldn’t think how. And besides, people were starting to stare at me. At least one guy, who walked past. He was shaking his head from side to side and talking to himself, a man in a business suit and overcoat, walking down the street shaking his head, disagreeing with he voices inside.

So I moved away before anyone else got suspicious. Perhaps the adventure lay elsewhere? Passed the Rastafarian guy who was wearing perfume, or very brave aftershave. It was here somewhere. Hmm. ‘Nevermind’, I thought. ‘Time to catch the bus’.

There are only a few buses out working at midnight, mixed in with the off duty ones. You can tell the difference quite easily. The off duty buses have no lights on. It’s as if they needed no driver either, happy to be off route, free to go whichever direction they want. They go quicker, break later and ignore people at bus stops with their arms out. The things are filled with fun.

I passed another shop before the bus stop and went in anyway. Perhaps this would remind me what I needed in the first place. No, nothing. I bought bread in a paper bag, missed one bus and waited for the next. Not long, and whilst people huddled under the shelter, I put away the half knackered girl-colour- umbrella I knicked from my girlfriend’s house and let myself get rained on. I’ll wait for an adventure another night. And I’ll take a notebook to write it down, rather than scribbling all this on a crusty bread roll.

But it’s nice to get home feeling chipper, and covered in rain, and slightly damp, and with nice thoughts in my head. Muffin, dammit, I meant to buy a muffin.