Today was, to put it mildly, not the best.
I was awoken at 7:00 AM by my mother, who told me I didn’t have to come out if I didn’t want to, despite me having set 2 alarms just to get up for this event. At least she seemed pretty happy that I was set on coming. We got ready and walked up to town with our neighbour who lives around the corner from us, Stuart. I was pretty groggy and I was also playing Pokémon Go, since we were walking through some quite populated areas.
I should probably mention that we were going up to London in order to look for the ‘dream jars’ that are linked in with the new BFG movie that recently came out. This pretty much involves following a vague map and looking for large artsy jars. Ah well, it was alright.
When we got to the station we met up with our final companion, Kathy, a woman who is good friends with my mother. We bought the tickets and hopped onto the train, at which point the first thing that put a sour taste in my mouth occurred. We were chit-chatting, and by that I mean they were talking and I was listening and my mother mentioned Pokémon, since my whole family is playing it essentially. Pretty much both Kathy and Stuart blew it off as a thing for children, saying it was alright for me because I am only 19. Stuff that! If I ever get to the age where I decide playing games is not what I want to do and I instead want to be a boring prick, I would be revolted with myself.
Anyway, I kind of brushed it off and decided I just wouldn’t mention it again. No point in talking about something that everyone else thinks is childish, right? So we eventually got to London and Kathy instantly takes the lead, telling us that instead of going for the jar that is right next to the station, we will instead take the train to Greenwich to get one of the jars that is quite far away from the others. This is fine, we head off over there and make it to the top of Greenwich hill, where we stop to eat a little something before we continue.
I had a hot chocolate and a slice of cake, as is my wont. I also used this time to charge my phone a little bit with the portable charger I borrowed from Ben. It wasn’t much but it did last me for probably a little while longer. Soon, we were off again.
At this point, everything was alright. I was still feeling pretty awful and I was sort of wishing that I was still in bed, but other than that, it was a slightly overcast day and there was a gentle breeze. It was pleasantly cool.
We took the fast boats up back to London Bridge and then walked along the Thames looking for a couple more jars. We found one and then spent a good half an hour walking around looking for one that had been removed due to it being damaged. Of course, after we didn’t see it in the place it should have been I was sure we weren’t going to find it, but that didn’t stop the ladies from rushing off to ask the staff of every place under the sun where the jar was.
Well, since it was gone we decided to stop off at a small pub/café and have lunch. I had a nice macaroni cheese and pulled pork deal and used up the last of the juice in the portable charger. At this point the sun decided to come out and ruin the entire rest of the day. It was hot, humid and awful for the next few hours.
So we walked back up the Thames along the beach and then along the bank until we reached London Bridge again and then passed the station to find the jars down the other way. All this time the lot of them have been whining about how the jars are not as good as the other things that they have hunted for in London and how they shouldn’t make them out of glass as they are easy to damage (despite the fact that the jars were clearly made out of some strong plastic for exactly that reason).
We found another few jars along the way, but the one on Tower Bridge was missing, so the group just got more fed up. We decided that we would go find the jar in the Shard and then (much to Kathy’s insistence) we would travel to Arsenal to go to the stadium, as a jar was located there.
So we got the jar at the Shard and then the group got separated, with my mother and I getting left behind and then hopping on the train to King’s Cross and Kathy and Stuart waiting at the station for us to catch up. The battery on my phone was completely dead by this point, so I was having to actually do things.
Eventually the others caught up and we debated whether or not to get the jar that was at King’s Cross. Kathy decided that we were too far gone and that we should go to Arsenal first and get the King’s Cross jar on the way back. So we went.
We found the jar at the stadium after a little more walking and then caught the train back to King’s Cross, where the group stood, puzzled, wondering which way to go to get to the jar. In the end I took my mother’s phone, opened Google Maps and just started walking the 5 feet to get to our destination.
At this point I should note my hatred for this group’s habit to either stop dead when walking down the pavement or slow down and turn around to talk while they are walking along. Why the fuck anyone has to look at each other while they are talking I don’t know. It can’t be that hard to look where you are going and talk at the same time. The lack of spatial awareness not only boggles my mind, it pisses off everyone around.
Anyway, we found the last jar we were looking for and caught the train back to East Croydon and then back to home. At this point, Stuart, my mother and I got a lift from my father back to the house and Kathy walked the short distance back to her house. Along the way I was asked if I wanted dinner and because I didn’t answer fast enough no one got any.
Now I am hungry, tired and depressed, because it turns out that this Friday I shall be going to see a concert in London instead of going to my friend’s party like I had planned. This is not a joyous occasion as I don’t even listen to music and I am probably going to be bored out of my mind all evening. So that knowledge just royally fucked my evening even further.
Now I don’t even want to see anyone else, let alone speak to anyone else. I feel like today has been like watching a train wreck in slow motion. And these people want to do the same thing next week. I’m not sure I could cope with that.
I don’t even want to go to bed right now but there is really nothing to do. I guess I should just cut my losses.
Elliott Rogers, novice blog writer extraordinaire.
The Words of Someone Who Doesn't Know Better 