FEAR & LOATHING IN LONDON

An invitation to a repast, circa 1992, aroundabouts Chipping Barnet - a haughty suburb of London, nestling at the brow of a glacial hill just a mile south of London's famed mega car park, the legendary M25.

"Susan", and her socially submissive boyfriend had indeed invited YT around on bonfire night, for a "sumptuous feast" comprising je ne sais quois? - to be honest.

I'd met the the somewhat oddball couple at a pseudo spiritual group gathering in outermost Penge not a year or so earlier. They seemed and indeed were simple, honest, pleasant and unassuming folk. Smiley skinny Susan however, bless her good heart, did possess somewhat pointy and unorthodox ( read rodent-like) features...

In any case I turned up for the evening's "entertainment" and was promptly treated to a rather ropey overgrown back garden mini fireworks display, the like of which I had not seen since my council estate childhood days.
I suppose it re-kindled early memories and all that, but jeez, I was semi-grown up by then so I yawned my way through it all as my stomach rumble-pestered for the promised meal.

Eventually we all settled down into our respective worn out armchair "dining room" nee lounge nee plate on your lap dining room places. Amemm, yeah ok, I was broadminded ( and young) enough to not make an immediate "fascist neurotic" kitchen judgement.

After an hour of listening to Susan's dope-addled 1970s Hawkwind/ Blodwyn Pig/ Fat Mattress etc etc crackling vinyl LP collection... and noticing several curiously hump-backed curtain-covered items in the corner of the room; in marched mine host with the plates for our laps, laden with a fine array of veggie fare ( potatoes, lentils and brown rice c/w spices special).

Oh joy. I tucked in with relish. But no sooner had I downed my first mouthful of Susan's culinary delight, than she announced to the room...

"I'll show you my little pets"

She whipped off the curtain covers to the theatrical tune of " Da Daaaaa ", to reveal three cages containing three superbly conditioned glossy white rats a piece, all a 'scurrying around their steely homes like little royal prisoners, in excitement at that doubtless pre-programmed curtain-raising signal of a meal-to-come.

My soggy boiled spud-soaked jaw dropped at the sight of the wee pack o' nine hurtling abouts the cramped cages and racing eagerly on their dinky treadmills, but what was to come after my naive " oh, great, fine, yeah, love dem animals" acceptance of this first "revelation" was nought in compare I can assure you dear reader.

For as I chomped with hesitation, in apprehension of the operation of a sudden violent vomit, my lap meal; Susan, with absolute sincerity of conviction and enthusiasm, uttered the words that will live with me to my dying grave...

" Do you mind if I let the rats out for a run?"

I quickly handed my half-finished plateful to the host's silent boyfriend as three or four little white beauties claw-clambered their charming red-eyed ways over the back of the sofa and crawled stop-start over my trembling head, neck and shoulders.

" Awww look", she said.... "how sweet - they like you. They've all got names you know. "

"Oh really?"
Once they'd cleared me for a second I stood up and announced,
" ahemm... must be going now and, er, thanks for the meal. It was er, great."

* * * * * * * * * *

They do say much of the weariness nay bitterness of age is to do with realising - annual increment by annual increment - the unalterable time-proof meat hook reality of generic human nature.

Barring exceptions, I guess the old adage " Hell is other people" is sadly - in practice over time - fairly accurate.

....sigh.

M.St.M