There was a time in Brighton when the Sock couldn't walk into town without bumping into at least three people she knew. This rarely happens now as the town is bigger, busier and so many old friends have moved on. So it was with some surprise that as the Sock was apologising to the man she had nearly knocked over in Sainsbury's car park that he said "I know you don't I?" with a 'trying to work out how' expression on his face. Of course the Sock's immediate thought was that her cover had been blown and one of the stalkers had got out of jail. Then it dawned on her.. and before she could stop herself the words shot out of her brain and fired straight out of her mouth "Christ, I haven't seen you since that time you were stark naked, covered in wall-paper paste and trying to break out of a plastic bag!"
This may or may not have been the man's most cherished memory but it was certainly the main one the Sock has of him. Not some deviant sexual encounter but a piece of performance art where his attempt to break out of the man-size bag, coupled with some pulsating heartbeat music was, I believe, entitled 'Birth'. The Sock attended this event, held in a small arts club, with some friends. Never a great fan of 'performance art' which invariably seems rather self-indulgent and never more so than when giving 'birth' to oneself, the Sock and friends became more and more hysterical with laughter as the pulsating, paste-covered, performance continued. A po-faced woman in the row in front turned round and snapped 'Shhhhh... you're spoiling it'! To which the Sock responded "Oy - don't tell me what to do! I thought it was supposed to be funny." As one might expect of an arty person she didn't pursue the argument but instead found the Sock in the interval and apologised saying that of course, everyone had the right to react to the performance as they felt fit!
The carpark encounter was mercifully brief as we rushed off in different directions to do our shopping. Some things are better left in the past.
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