Bum
Lightroom Presets | Prints | Facebook
Excerpt from my diary when I was 17:
January - Saturday 18th
I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror. It was one of those days where my hair just seemed to grow 3 inches longer than the day before. I looked like a tramp. Yesterday I could do my hair just fine, but today I'd have no chance. Fuck it - I'll get a haircut next week because I'm off college all week anyway.
I didn't even bother washing, I just pulled on whatever clothes were laying around, phoned a taxi and then put on my massive jacket that I'd never wear to college (because frankly, it looked fucking freezing outside). One more look in the mirror confirmed that I did indeed look like a tramp, and then I sat down and waited on the taxi. Whilst I waited, I thought about how something as simple as phoning a taxi was such a grown up thing to do. I remembered being a child, and the rare occasions when my mum or dad would phone a taxi to take us somewhere. A service you phone and then pay for with your own money. I don't even know why I thought about that, but it passed the time during the wait.
When I got into town, my objective was pretty simple: Get breakfast, buy new t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. I was conscious of how shite I looked, so I didn't want to hang about for long. After half an hour in town, I'd already taken care of most of those things, all I needed now was the right t-shirt. I don't like anything with a logo across the front, but I quite like pastel colours, so maybe a nice blue one or something might be the best option. I made my way towards Union Street when I saw a girl that looked like Sarah walking into Waterstones. I didn't actually think it was her, so I continued walking on the same side, even more conscious of how I was looking, and let my head turn to the right as I passed the shop, just to have a curious look in the window. The girl was standing at the counter, facing out the window I was passing, but her head was down and the glass was dark. I stopped in my tracks, just briefly, and waited for her head to lift.
It was her.
Fuck.
I immediately began walking again, I wasn't sure whether or not she had saw me, but I hoped to fuck she hadn't. I only let a few moments pass before I looked over my shoulder, she had left the shop and was now about 10 metres behind me. I walked faster, sweating and desperately looking for a crowd to disappear in. I could move into one of the shops on Union Street, but that might alert her attention to me, so I decided walking in a straight line as fast I could was the best option.
Once I'd reached Gordon Street, I looked behind me once again, she was still there - walking in my direction, but there was no indication she'd saw me. I made a right turn into Gordon Street, heading towards Buchanan Street, and after a block I looked behind again. She'd made the same turn as me but she was significantly further behind now. I decided I had to get off the street, so I made my way into the coffee shop I can never remember the name of, and ordered a cappuccino, keeping my back to the street as I waited on it.
When I sat down, I became annoyed at my own laziness. If I'd just had a wash and at least attempted to do something with my hair before I left the house, and of course put on clothes that were actually clean and not tramp worthy, then I could have used that opportunity to speak to her. Furthermore, I could actually be sitting right here with her, drinking coffee. Although, if I'd actually spent time on my appearance this morning, then I wouldn't have been passing Waterstones at the same moment she was there, so it's pretty irrelevant really.
Anyway, eventually I found a t-shirt I liked, and then jumped into a taxi that was sitting at the lights on Gordon Street. I sat in the taxi, sweat raining from every pour because of that stupid massive jacket I had on, and the anxiety/shock from seeing Sarah and potentially her seeing me. I took off my jacket and lay it on top of my bags on the seat beside me, and then stretched my legs and sunk into the back seat. We had stopped at the traffic lights at the bottom of Union Street for what seemed like 20 minutes, but what was realistically only about 20 seconds, when I looked out of my window, across the road. Sarah was walking towards my direction, she hadn't saw me yet, but the traffic lights were changing to green, so she stopped to wait, and my taxi started to move. I should have slid further down the seat, out of sight. But I couldn't - I was frozen. Was she going to look in the window and see me? She lifted her head, and her eyes slowly met mine. The taxi began to accelerate, leaving my judgement behind in the dust, as I leaned up towards the window and gave her the middle finger.
Glasgow, 2013