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This is a question Tramps

Tramps, burn-outs and the homeless insane all go to making life that little bit more interesting.
Gather around the burning oil-drum and tell us your hobo-tales.

suggested by kaol

(, Thu 2 Jul 2009, 15:47)
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last night a tramp saved my life
ok it wasn't last night, we're going back about 6-7 years and Aphex Twin is playing at The Coronet in Elephant and Castle for an acid warp halloween party.

I have travelled up to Brighton from Plymouth to meet up with some old uni mates with the plan of getting the train to The City and from then on to the club.

Adding liquid acid to the mix probably wasn't the best idea...

Having all taken far too much, one of the girls with us starts to freak out on the train, and we have no choice but to get off at the next station - Clapham Junction. Now this can be a hectic place at the best of times, but on acid it was pure hell. The tunnels seemed to stretch off to the horizon, lots of people running around (with screw faces on - respect to skinnyman), and us stuck in the middle with a screaming girl and all getting more scared by the second.

We had to get out, so made it to an exit and out into the calm streets. Only it wasn't calm, it was rush hour and everyone seems to be coming at us, so we leg it. We walk for what seems like hours and hours trying to get our heads together, but in a moment of lucidity i read a sign that says - Clapham Junction - 250 yds. So we hadn't gone anywhere and then one of us nearly gets hit by a car, clearly we are not safe. So its back into the station so at least we know where we are.

And now the tramp. Amongst all the clean, rich, employed people rushing around scaring the hell out of us is a really dirty man in the corner who for some reason seems like the only kindred spirit in the place. I head over and start chatting. He clearly knows I am fucked, and asks if I have any drugs. I apologise and say we've taken it all that is why I'm so messed up. He understands. We chat some more. Just talking to him is making me see clearly again and he is so friendly I feel completely safe. It is bitterly cold so I give him my gloves and £5 as a thank you and whilst my head is still clear, grab everyone, bundle them into a taxi and tell the driver to take us to the Coronet.

We all pretty much pass out in the taxi and he has to kick us out when we get there, nearly get hit by another car but make it into the club (god knows why the bouncers let us in). We then spent an hour in the corner of one of the bars, under a table, thinking it was the main room until we just had to investigate "all the loud noise coming from through those double doors over there".

In the end we had an amazing night, watched THX 1138 on the big screen till the next day and made our way slowly back to Brighton, with haunted faces, mild hallucinations and the promise that we would never do it again... ...or at least take a tramp with us next time.

Thanks man, whoever you were, for saving my life that night. If I ever see you again, i'll save some drugs for you.

Sorry for the length everyone, It's the first thing i've ever felt entitled to share on B3ta
(, Sat 4 Jul 2009, 20:00, Reply)

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