Singing in the Sunshine
'I know, we should go busk down Egham High St!"
Said crazy Rach, who is crazy.
Because Rach is crazy, me and Sam thought she might've been joking.
But as we made our way down Egham High Street, acoustic guitar and tambourine in hand, it began to dawn on us, ever so slightly, that RACH WAS NOT JOKING.
At first, we tried the little tunnel beside Nero, because, being a tunnel, it has some DAMN GOOD reverb going on. Unfortunately, not many people go down the tunnel, so there aren't many people to hear the DAMN GOOD reverb.
Even so, we still managed to get a pound off a bloke (even if he did drop it down onto our 'Busking for Breakfast' sign when only Sam was playing - and she was the tambourine player) who then said he was going down to bet on the horses, so if he got lucky he'd be back to give us more (we assumed it wasn't his lucky day).
So, because we were feeling greedy (and hungry) we decided to move over to a more populated area - Namely, the bench outside tesco's. For the most part, the audience response was either a pretend-they-aren't-there approach, mildly-pissed-off glares or an appreciative smile and 'very good girls' - the last response listed being given by a man who we were pretty sure was mentally unhinged. Although, we did obtain another two pounds from a bloke who told us to keep it up, which we think was actually just a polite way of saying 'I'm giving you this £2 coin, now bugger off.' Ah well. Money's money and all, so we decided to celebrate by spending it all on Tesco's own brand of Haribo (oh, and a cinammon roll for the ever sensible Sam). £3 for 3 songs (Camera Obscura and Moldy Peaches, FYI) I thought wasn't too shabby at all.
In fact, so impressive was our playing to earning ratio, we even discussed making it a weekly thing, only, when I returned to the high st barely an hour later, one of the first things I noticed was a bleedin' police car. Now I'm just worried that next time, we won't be so lucky.
The rest of the day went by with a distinct feeling of being all much-of-a-muchness, until the end of Music Technology, when Diane asked me to stay behind for jazz band because there was a photographer coming in and they needed a singer. I refused to accept until I got ABSOLUTE CONFIRMATION that it would just be group pictures. And that everyone would be wearing party hats, courtesy of Crazy Rach (would you believe).
When it came down to it, the hats seemed to simply disappear as the rehearsal wore on, until me and Rach were the only ones wearing them, and, what was supposed to be only 'group photos', ended up being single photos RIGHT IN MY FUCKING FACE.
You owe me big time, Diane. BIG. TIME.
Said crazy Rach, who is crazy.
Because Rach is crazy, me and Sam thought she might've been joking.
But as we made our way down Egham High Street, acoustic guitar and tambourine in hand, it began to dawn on us, ever so slightly, that RACH WAS NOT JOKING.
At first, we tried the little tunnel beside Nero, because, being a tunnel, it has some DAMN GOOD reverb going on. Unfortunately, not many people go down the tunnel, so there aren't many people to hear the DAMN GOOD reverb.
Even so, we still managed to get a pound off a bloke (even if he did drop it down onto our 'Busking for Breakfast' sign when only Sam was playing - and she was the tambourine player) who then said he was going down to bet on the horses, so if he got lucky he'd be back to give us more (we assumed it wasn't his lucky day).
So, because we were feeling greedy (and hungry) we decided to move over to a more populated area - Namely, the bench outside tesco's. For the most part, the audience response was either a pretend-they-aren't-there approach, mildly-pissed-off glares or an appreciative smile and 'very good girls' - the last response listed being given by a man who we were pretty sure was mentally unhinged. Although, we did obtain another two pounds from a bloke who told us to keep it up, which we think was actually just a polite way of saying 'I'm giving you this £2 coin, now bugger off.' Ah well. Money's money and all, so we decided to celebrate by spending it all on Tesco's own brand of Haribo (oh, and a cinammon roll for the ever sensible Sam). £3 for 3 songs (Camera Obscura and Moldy Peaches, FYI) I thought wasn't too shabby at all.
In fact, so impressive was our playing to earning ratio, we even discussed making it a weekly thing, only, when I returned to the high st barely an hour later, one of the first things I noticed was a bleedin' police car. Now I'm just worried that next time, we won't be so lucky.
The rest of the day went by with a distinct feeling of being all much-of-a-muchness, until the end of Music Technology, when Diane asked me to stay behind for jazz band because there was a photographer coming in and they needed a singer. I refused to accept until I got ABSOLUTE CONFIRMATION that it would just be group pictures. And that everyone would be wearing party hats, courtesy of Crazy Rach (would you believe).
When it came down to it, the hats seemed to simply disappear as the rehearsal wore on, until me and Rach were the only ones wearing them, and, what was supposed to be only 'group photos', ended up being single photos RIGHT IN MY FUCKING FACE.
You owe me big time, Diane. BIG. TIME.