Mining for Gold

I enjoyed Johny's show last night. Resonance has moved to London Bridge but there was still a narrow staircase to negotiate- actually, even more awkward than the one in Denmark Street because this one is a spiral staircase and I swear it gradually narrows as you climb it, becoming practically a point when you get to the top!
The other guests were Louise Levi, who is a poet and who plays an extraordinary Afghani stringed instrument; I spent the whole time trying to work out how she played it. She had a big puff of red hair and twinkly eyes, and a fiendish cold, I gave her some of my little strong liquorice sweets, which she wolfed down and even picked the ones up off the floor that exploded out of the tin when I opened it. The other guest was Bonelli, a singer-songwriter who plays a Martin guitar.
The room was dimmed, and Johny's friend was taking photos- I wished I had a camera as she looked very photogenic herself, under the table peering up at Bonelli with her camera. Johny was genial, and the whole atmosphere was great- we took turns singing songs, playing or poeting, whatever we did, and had a little chat in between. I played Heaven Avenue ( the devil made me sing 'happy parties in the high street' instead of 'high skies'), Love on the Wind (no mistakes), Temptation (bottom 'E' totally out of tune) and London (forgot the words halfway through and ended on the wrong chord, hastily had to slide to the right chord- did it sound flash or crap?). The hour whizzed by; I silently watched Louise drink my entire flask of coffee that I had brought so I didn't fall asleep driving home, but I didn't mind, it stopped her from coughing.
Johny likes the song London, and Louise liked Heaven Avenue and Love on the Wind. Bonelli liked Love on the Wind. So I felt appreciated!
Afterwards I piled them and their instruments into my car and dropped each of them off in the middle of nowhere (at their request, I wasn't being a meanie, I promise) and dropped into bed a knackered heap- I turn into a pumpkin at midnight normally, and I didn't get back till about 2 a.m.

I went to Tescos today, the rough one at Borehamwood. Everybody pushes and shoves, there are trolley clashes, people snatching the apple from in front of your eyes. Small children dart in front of your trolley trying to commit suicide (seen their parents?), people have rows at the checkouts and Nobody Smiles.
I am practising not shopping in Waitrose any more, as it will be too expensive in future.
'Aha!', I thought, I have a Creme Egg in my bag'.
I can't have done my bag up properly, because someone filched my mobile phone, along with more than a hundred song ideas and loads of photos of bands I've seen, from A Smile and a Ribbon to Ari Upp.
So
I am going to write a hundred more songs, and go to hundreds more gigs to take photos
I am also never going to use that bag again. A few years ago in the Trocadero, someone undid it and nicked a purse with a tiny miniature pair of scissors, a French Holiday voucher I'd won, and a pearl on a chain my aunt gave me when I was a bridesmaid at her wedding to my uncle.