This weekend was a veritable mixture of socialising. On saturday night I went down to South London, God forbid, to meet up with the BMF instructors after the training day and have a couple of jars. We were in a lovely pub near Chelsea and it was remarkably civilised. Once we had had a few drinks down South my longing for the North grew ever stronger so we headed back to Hoxton Sq to continue the party. I always seem to have issues being allowed into bars in said Sq, after some serious negotiations and gratuitous Fire Brigade warrant card flashing we blagged our way in and met up with a group of mates.
The bar was extremely crowded and a little pretencious so Dave, a mate from work, decided it would be good to go to a Garage night in Vauxhall. Back to the South and for shitty Garage music??? Oh well, if that's where the party is i'll give it a bash. We got to the venue and under went a vigorous body search and through metal detectors, not a good sign, or is it. At least they were taking security seriously. Inside this cramped and sweaty hole the music was blasting and the drugged up crowd, drinking beer out of cans, were throwing shapes all over the place. I had 2 choices, stand around and moan about the dated music and rough crowd, get me, or get stuck in. I chose the latter and started dancing like no one was watching. I was having a blast, good friends around me and a great atmosphere. Then I clambered up onto the stage and started dancing in a most un rude boy like fashion, it was hilarious. A few of the tough guys looked at me funny but I was in the zone and loving it, I was busting the old one potato two potato dance and all the cheesy moves I could dig up. We stumbled out of the club at 4ish as me and Dave had to be on duty at 0830. By the time we got home it was 5, Dave crashed on my sofa and I managed 2 hrs sleep before my pesky alarm went off for work.
I was in shit state at work, not from the alcohol just from lack of sleep. We had a rememberence parade for the fallen heroes which I wouldn't have missed for the world. Then we got a fire call, it was a small fire in a kitchen but inside were a budgie and a dog, with total disregard for our own safety, me and one of the boys pulled those poor creatures from the smokey house and saved their lives. It's a tough job but someones got to do it. That dealt with it was back to the station for more hard graft, scrubbing the motors for monday's inspection. A few more shouts and finally 6pm rolled around and I crawled off duty a broken man. I got round to my folks for a much needed home cooked meal, man i'm going to miss them when they are in Spain for good. All in all a superb weekend full of friendships, laughter and what makes my job exciting......... FIRE!!!
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