Traded a mad hippy woman for some wine (to an alleged poet)
To cut a long story short, it involved massive intoxicants, we'd been clubbing and the day after was a lovely day.
We crashed in the park, 30 + random, colourful hippy types in the grounds of a public garden, church and city centre heritage. But the day was merry, spirits were high and everyone was having a good time, enjoying the sunny morning and blue skies.

So... Anyways, this rather mad lady was accompanying us, she seemed quite child-like but at the same time very educated and aware (but she kept barking at my mate who was ff his beans on LSD), and she didn't seem to care that her present company were mostly binge-fuelled Lancashire lads or the morning remnants of a very psychedelic club experience - so all was great.

Until, and I can only remember the day from surreal fragments from this point onwards. This elderly bloke in a white suit, a walking cane and white hair strolls around the park, pulls a leaf from the pond and then approaches our various groups and spots this hippy lady who is with us and introduces himself to us as a certain Liverpudlian author/poet (I seriously forget who the hell he was called) and starts chatting to us.

He claims to be very rich and tells us that these gardens are his local grounds and that he'd appreciate it if we would keep the place tidy and of course we agreed. He then gave my friend a hand-full of notes and told us that we seemed a decent crowd and that my mate should run to the shop and buy wine/beer etc.

So my mate toddles off, and then this old guy notices our female companion for the first time and immediately invites her to his flat. In some confusing memory I remember her asking him if he was a DIFFERENT author, and he agreed and it all got very confusing.

My next memory is lying in the sun. Totally blissed out - everything was good with the world. I could hear the chinking of arriving booze, and I glanced up and saw my mate arriving back with a large amount of wine. Brilliant.

So we drank merrily, bathed in the sun and everyone was having a marvellous time. And then my phone started ringing.

'odd'

Unknown number.

Me (fucked on sun/booze/etc) : Hullo?

Mad Lady (whispering): Hey you.

Me: Hullo?

Mad lady: Hey, you gave me your number, i'm in that man's flat. He's not the guy who I think he was. He's a bit mad'

** Now at this point, I think I hit the wall of confusion, as I don't remember giving her my number (although friends later confirmed that I did in case she needed anything) - and also I was quite surprised at how she would evaluate madness, considering she'd spent half the day giggling in a park/grounds with a load of strangers before running off with a guy who was claimed to be a different poet to the one she imagined - who'd apparently offered to cook her a meal and then pretty much bribed everyone with wine and took her to his mad flat. When she got there she realised he was a 'different' poet and then proceeded to ring me every fifteen minutes telling me how scared she was and how she was trying to escape (but then she'd laugh)and this went on for a good day or so.

It was a crazy day indeed.

The lady turned out to be fine, she kept ringing me and eventually stopped, I saw her not long ago at another event, so she's fine and still going for it. Whatever it is.

But that will always be the day surreality got a grip of me, and I technically sold a mad lady for some wine.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 15 Sep 2011, 22:32, 5 replies)

Was it Adrian Henri?
Cos
He
Was
Bonkers!
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Thu 15 Sep 2011, 22:48, closed)

Not sure
reading the wiki of Adrian Henri it appears he passed away in 2000.

So I guess it's not him.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 15 Sep 2011, 23:28, closed)

Well, you gave no indication of when this happened...
Too much focus on the mahooosiveness of the drugs.
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Fri 16 Sep 2011, 9:31, closed)

You could cut a long story even shorter by not using line breaks after every sentence.

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 16 Sep 2011, 0:06, closed)

Needs more emphasis on the
MASSIVE DRUGS.

Pst... "I got drunk in a park, then met a woman who later left with a man" doesn't really count as human trafficking.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 16 Sep 2011, 8:54, closed)