Small town girl leaves home - High Wycombe (1)
We made friends quickly and soon found ourselves running riot as we began to explore this new world. Living in our small town had led to us having very sheltered lives and it was now time to expand our horizons and explore our reckless sides. We changed our jobs often, exchanging shifts at the kids dream world (our nightmare) of Legoland, for days in a sports store offering advice on aerobics shoes and sporting clothes to people who must have been as clueless as we were. When we grew tired of this we tried our hand at working in a pensioners café at the local garden centre, which saw our listening skills honed as many ‘When I was your age…’ stories tumbled out from wisely lined lips.
On the evenings we had off together, we would meet in the doorway of a neighbour’s unused garage with a massive bottle of wine and draw pictures in the dirt at our feet, whilst we drank and discussed our dreams and goals, and solved the problems of the world. A few unsteady steps up the hill and we were home and in the backyard for our communal evenings around the backyard fire, listening to stories and passing suspicious cigarettes around the intoxicating flames. Cultures mingled, accents mixed, stories were shared and many laughs carried into the night sky on the curling fingers of smoke.
One evening the unthinkable happened! The alcohol dried up – our well of plenty was empty. One of the Iranian men, who was not drinking, but instead munching on roasted pumpkin seeds, offered to drive us into London to find a store that would offer salvation to the thirsty masses. That afternoon we had found a rather cute Scotsman wandering through the mall whose story, albeit a little holey, (he had just arrived in town and had nowhere to live. Having met up with some school girls who snuck him into their dorms he had been discovered by the matron and had to flee, leaving all his clothes behind. We were green, but we weren`t that green!) made us feel sorry for him, so like a like puppy found on a rainy day we brought him home with us. The Iranian, the Scotsman, two housemates and I jumped into an ancient bomber and hurtled out into the night, an hour and a half down the road to London in search of more drinks. Most places were shut and the ones that we did find open were unable to sell us anything as England has a policy of ‘No Sales’ after 11pm. (Most corner stores sell alcohol)
One last shot at a burglar barred store down a side street and we struck gold. The guy behind the counter beckoned to us to come closer as he whispered, ‘See that camera up there? You have to wait for it to turn the other way and then quickly stick a bottle under your jacket. Come to the counter and buy something small and I will charge you for it then.’ My roommate and I looked at each other uncertainly. This could not be good. My heart began beating wildly in my chest and suddenly I felt stone cold sober. This was a bad idea! The jovial Scotsman happily volunteered, and my roommate and I gladly stepped outside to wait, with baited breath.
The streets were dimly lit by a buzzing light that seemed to appear brighter than what it was. I felt as though eyes were appearing at the windows and watching our every move, fingers on the telephone buttons already dialling through to the Police. We eyed each other nervously, not even daring to speak in case we drew attention to ourselves, even though we had not seen another person in all the time we had been there. A siren in the distance sent a jolt through my body and a chill in my veins.
Suddenly the three boys came running from the store, ‘Run! RUN!’ We nearly wet ourselves as we took off across the deserted road and fumbled with the handles to the locked car doors.
Who had the keys?
photo`s courtesy of www.squirrelhouse.co.uk and http://www.allphotogallery.com
On the evenings we had off together, we would meet in the doorway of a neighbour’s unused garage with a massive bottle of wine and draw pictures in the dirt at our feet, whilst we drank and discussed our dreams and goals, and solved the problems of the world. A few unsteady steps up the hill and we were home and in the backyard for our communal evenings around the backyard fire, listening to stories and passing suspicious cigarettes around the intoxicating flames. Cultures mingled, accents mixed, stories were shared and many laughs carried into the night sky on the curling fingers of smoke.
One evening the unthinkable happened! The alcohol dried up – our well of plenty was empty. One of the Iranian men, who was not drinking, but instead munching on roasted pumpkin seeds, offered to drive us into London to find a store that would offer salvation to the thirsty masses. That afternoon we had found a rather cute Scotsman wandering through the mall whose story, albeit a little holey, (he had just arrived in town and had nowhere to live. Having met up with some school girls who snuck him into their dorms he had been discovered by the matron and had to flee, leaving all his clothes behind. We were green, but we weren`t that green!) made us feel sorry for him, so like a like puppy found on a rainy day we brought him home with us. The Iranian, the Scotsman, two housemates and I jumped into an ancient bomber and hurtled out into the night, an hour and a half down the road to London in search of more drinks. Most places were shut and the ones that we did find open were unable to sell us anything as England has a policy of ‘No Sales’ after 11pm. (Most corner stores sell alcohol)
One last shot at a burglar barred store down a side street and we struck gold. The guy behind the counter beckoned to us to come closer as he whispered, ‘See that camera up there? You have to wait for it to turn the other way and then quickly stick a bottle under your jacket. Come to the counter and buy something small and I will charge you for it then.’ My roommate and I looked at each other uncertainly. This could not be good. My heart began beating wildly in my chest and suddenly I felt stone cold sober. This was a bad idea! The jovial Scotsman happily volunteered, and my roommate and I gladly stepped outside to wait, with baited breath.
The streets were dimly lit by a buzzing light that seemed to appear brighter than what it was. I felt as though eyes were appearing at the windows and watching our every move, fingers on the telephone buttons already dialling through to the Police. We eyed each other nervously, not even daring to speak in case we drew attention to ourselves, even though we had not seen another person in all the time we had been there. A siren in the distance sent a jolt through my body and a chill in my veins.
Suddenly the three boys came running from the store, ‘Run! RUN!’ We nearly wet ourselves as we took off across the deserted road and fumbled with the handles to the locked car doors.
Who had the keys?
photo`s courtesy of www.squirrelhouse.co.uk and http://www.allphotogallery.com














Rucks and Rolls
Rugby World Cup 2007
Ahhh Scotsmen...charming...disarmi ng...
I like that. I like that very much.
Waiting. Bated breath.
Kalikapsychosis
Because it should be
Health and Beauty
Reality TV
The Jeepney Stop
Mum's Word
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Love Speaks
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Yes the Scotsman was very charming, and disarming too! Loved the accent...
We certainly had a variety in the house which made for some very interesting experiences.
Hope you are well.
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Thanks K.
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
I certainly don`t need to go looking for trouble because it has made sure it has been my companion over the years. It`s been fun
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
can you believe the things you think in such situations? My housemate actually slapped my forehead for me when I said that - considering the driver was the only sober one it didn`t take a genius to figure out who had them
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
LOL - I`m glad it wasn`t too much of a cliffhanger at the time - I reckon I would have had a heart attack!
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
cheers! great to see you. I~m still pondering on that anime name.... grrr I can see it infront of me :0
Ash
Celebrity Obsession
Great story so far. I'm hooked. I'm with Dusk, loved the line about sitting round the fire.
I can't believe you left us with a cliff hanger like that. Hurry up and write the next installment!
Kylie
Photography Tips
Health Focus
Poetry Lighthouse
MS Paint Art
katyzzz
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
I loved this line.
I think I know that Scotsman, he's my brother-in-law! *chuckle*
Great tale, looking forward to more...
Lilla ...
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
I loved those evenings around the fire. We sort of ruined the garden a bit, but it was a dustbowl already...
Thanks for reading!
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
just as well we had all the time in the world to stop and listen - heard some great little stories.
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
I love 'old people' stories... and wrinkled faces. They are like a network of stories interwoven onto their skin... and wise eyes that reflect the passion of it all.
if it`s him can i have his number?
Ash
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
Love the writings an the photos! Thanks for keeping us at the edge of our seats
Mis
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories