why are you following me?

Tweet

Or, the tale of the bit-players. I forgot to tell you about the bit-players who shared the music joy with me on Sunday. So, there was Leggy Beauty in her very short blue floral dress. I first saw her when she used the portaloo. I saw her again on the other side of the venue when I found myself jiggling along to the music directly behind her. At this point we were all nearly treated to a view of her knickers; she was one of those who stretched to lift her phone high in the sky so as to enjoy the concert at home, later. And then, I saw her again as we walked along the road back to the car. We practically held hands as we walked along, we were that close. There was also Snogging Couple. They were sitting near us as Tom Bailey played his set, but suddenly disappeared. Not in a puff of smoke, silly. Later, as A-ha played, I found myself directly next to Snogging Couple, again on the other side of the venue. Smoker Guy wandered around the venue quite a bit. I recognise him from somewhere else. Football matches? College? Someone I once was friendly with, a long time ago? I know not. However, in between OMD and A-ha he sat next to me and smoked a f.a.g. {which must be written in such a way because myLot is an American site and thinks it's a big bad word, but let's me put fanny* so, you know, swings and roundabouts, eh?} Our route home in the car took us back past the venue and who should cross the road directly in front of our car? Yes, Smoker Guy him-very-self. I realise that this is ordinary. My brain picked these people out for some reason and so I noticed them more than others, but it still freaks me out a little, makes me think my life is just a Truman Show. There were a fair few thousand people there, after all, and we moved around a bit. Why was everybody else so unnoticeable and irrelevant? For some bizarre reason it really frustrates me. *sigh* *a rude word in British English, referring to a lady's private parts, don't you know. Oi, no sn.iggering {seriously, myLot? What about Sc.unthorpe? [Nope, heaven help anyone who lives there!]} at the back, boys.