Aug 31, 2020: Bank Holiday

Nothing says August Bank Holiday, for me, more than a terrified, screaming drunk at just before noon.

I’d been in to work this morning for a quick game before the onslaught of Cabin In The Woods games which I was not required for, so I ran my game, tidied up and legged it before all that action kicked off.

When I arrived for work, town was a quiet-ish place. People had not started to mill about aimlessly. In the few short hours I had been in work, things had changed. There was milling. People had brought their children out to play in the fountains in front of the train station – or at least the areas where the fountains would be, if there wasn’t a chance that whatever you’d catch from them would be way more deadly than covid which meant that they were turned off.

The square outside Huddersfield train station baffles me. It’s not an attractive place to sit out, sandwiched between the station car park on one side and a taxi rank and a plethora of bus stops on the over.

But it is definitely a place people sit. And, as I say, if the fountains are on, take the opportunity to wash their children in filthy recycled pavement water.

But today it was mainly sitting.

On the steps to the side of the station a woman was sitting. Shouting. And sitting. And hollering. And sitting.

“Mick!” she was shouting.

Endlessly.

I, initially, thought it was someone just screaming, or maybe a seagull. But no. It was a woman who wanted Mick. Quite badly. “Mick! Where are ya, Mick?” she would shout.

There was no answer from Mick.

It was starting to look like one of those tragic stories you might see on the TV, where a voice over would say “… but Mick never arrived…” or “… Mick had died the night before…”

But Mick was there.

He was in the square, outside the train station, hitting up all the seated, disappointed that they couldn’t wash their children in the fountains people for money.

Eventually, her cries reached him.

He turned, as though in a romantic movie. A slow-motion turn, with a flock of pigeons taking to the air behind him.

“Whaaaaaaat?!?” He yelled back. “I’m here!”

She was happy. Content. She fell silent.

Momentarily.

“Mick!”

Ah, the new normal is very like the old normal.