Before i realised what 'glastonbury spirit' was...
... I could be a little on the 'schadenfreude' side of life, to put it mildly. As a 23 year old recent graduate with a penchant for dark humour and darker narcotics, Glastonbury 2005 was to prove to be both the pinnacle of my cuntishness, and the realisation that being pleasant to people was actually much more enjoyable than being witty and derisive. well, unless an old lady falls over in front of you of course.

the start of the festival started in what i imagine to be a similar experience to most people, well cynical fuckers like me anyway. Enjoying the spectacle, being amazing at the size of the place, and taking the piss out of hippes. I remember vocally enquiring how on earth some of the scabby troglodytes managed to scrape together the £120 entrance fee together selling big issues alone, and loudly wondering how a man with a dog on a string and nothing but Y-fronts on found a telephone line or an internet connection with which to buy a ticket. Anyhow, I digress...

after a full on first night of sniffing, imbibing, drinking and smoking we set off to find some of the hippy delights in store around glastonbury, providing cutting social commentary along the way. After a particularly interesting encounter with some poppers, I saw someone official looking and, as we were pretty much lost, i thought i would ask her where the nearest bar was. As I got closer to her, a lovely young lady of around 19, i noticed the flouro jacket she had on said 'samaritans' - I then asked her where the nearest bar was, to which she replied 'i'm sorry you'll have to ask one of the stewards', to which i replied, quick as a flash - 'if you don't tell me where the nearest bar is, i'm going to kill myself'.

Now i don't know if you've ever met anyone from the samaritans, but i learned a few things about them very quickly in the few seconds following that exchange. Namely:

1) They don't like jokes about suicide
2) They take threats of suicide very seriously
3) instead of telling you to fuck off (quite rightly so), they would rather explain to you why that is such a hurtful thing to say
4) They are amazing at making you feel guilty
5) They are very fit. Well this one was anyway - probably why i took on board what she said to be honest.

She made me feel so bad, that i actually had a mini epiphany - and spent the rest of the entire festival in such a happy go lucky mood, not getting annoyed by 'moonbeam' and 'cobweb' banging into me every 5 seconds stinking of incense, not batting an eyelid when someone comes over claiming to 'enhance your buzz' by blowing spittle onto your face and running their grubby fingers down your eyelids, and generally being bloody nice to everyone.

Jesting aside, I had an absolutely amazing time as i wasn't so wound up and angry, and i genuinely believe that it changed me for the better that day. i still tried to sit on people thining they were chairs (why is it always the largest, meanest looking blokes that you pick out as looking like a chair anyhow) and other acid-related jollies - but whenever i see yoghurt weavers now, i feel at least in some way connected to them, and i certainly understand why being nice to everyone and everything in your surroundings leads to a much happier, more peaceful existence.

Nice one glasto.
(the reverend JT, Fri 5 Jun 2009, 11:22, 1 reply)

Now *this* deserves a click
*click*
(EssY, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 15:04, closed)