23rd September 2007 – Day off
Or “Fuck off”
Picture the scene, faithful reader: I have woken up in my own bed for the second morning on the trot, but all the fun (drinking) of the last week has smacked me square in the gut. I have never felt so tired. Or so hungover. At 27 years of age, I’ve been lucky enough to have rarely faced hangovers. Not through lack of trying, mind. I have been drinking to excess since I was old enough to be able to, but I could count the number of hangovers I have suffered on the fingers of one hand. I am suffering, but while the rhythm section has a day off, I have to drag myself out of bed to head on over to Disco Stu’s parents house in Southend to shoot additional footage for the Rags & Tags video. I am very, very tired and very, very cranky. I have argued with my girlfriend of the time – she didn’t want me going away to do more band stuff on my supposed day off – and my mother. My oven is not working, and our hired van is parked somewhere on a street in Stepney that has residential parking restrictions, so is at risk of getting a parking ticket. We can barely afford to pay for the tour, let alone a parking ticket as well. Of the three drivers, Deb is in Southend already, ill and preparing to shoot more video footage. I have no idea where Simon is, so the continued wellbeing of the tour budget is reliant on bassist Sam. My diary from the time tells this story best:
So, I’m on the way home from a video shoot I didn’t want to go to. I’m tired, I haven’t had a day off and I won’t have one until next Saturday. Shall I list the people queueing up to give me shit? Rah. It appears that I can do no right at present. I’ve also had to do the bloody band accounts today. Thankfully we’re turning around enough merch to be breaking even. Or on target to, anyway.
I’m so wound up. Text discussion with (Sam) Christie:
Steve: “Plan for tomorrow is to leave from The George at 1.30. Deb is ill so unlikely to be in London in time to move the van. Can you look after it please? x”
Samantha: “Any suggestions on where to put it, or do u just want me to sit in it from half past 8 until you bother to turn up?”
Steve: “Sit in it till I turn up. Don’t forget to put the hazards on tho”
Samantha: “Fuck off”
I was in a rage. As my diary later put it, I was “fucking seething”. I was already wound up and then I get these messages and I find myself on a train somewhere near Billericay going absolutely apeshit mental and completely unable to do anything about it. I had no control over the situation whatsoever – I couldn’t (and still can’t) drive, so I couldn’t even do it myself. When I had arrived at Stu’s house, I waited for what seemed like hours for filming or indeed anything to happen before standing up against a wall, miming through the song a couple of times and finally going home. Deb was too ill to film her part, which had stressed me further. She felt awful, but we were off to Leeds tomorrow so fuck knew when we would actually get the video done; the next day off wasn’t for a while. I eventually got home late and passed out, defeated. I had travelled for hours, argued with at least one bandmate, my girlfriend and my mother, and flown into a rage over a car parking space. And all this for a video that NEVER EVEN GOT PLAYED ON THE FUCKING TV!
Though I still maintain it’s a bloody GREAT video. Even if I do look like a knob 2 minutes and 41 seconds in.