Lager Time

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time, legions of lager-lites, grab your tins, your bottles and your pints.

So this weeks episode is called On Bull-Shit Detection and is written in response to a quote from Book 3 of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations’ in case you’ve not got the memo about what I’m doing over here. Hope you enjoy it

LINKS

Romeo & Julliet @ the Polka - https://polkatheatre.com/event/romeo-and-juliet/

Lakeisha Lynch-Stevens - https://www.instagram.com/lakeishals/?hl=en

Conrad Murray - https://www.instagram.com/rodium/?hl=en

Beats & Elements - https://twitter.com/BeatsElements

If you’d like to support my work the best thing you can probably do is introduce it to someone who you think might like it, as weird and niche as this little thing is.

Alternatively, you can make a donation on KO-FI,

or BUY-MY-BOOK – The Suburban –

plays I co-wrote with Beats & Elements – Hip Hop Theatre Anthology

or just stream my music or watch the videos or whatever; you know the coo.

www.paulcree.co.uk

Have a banging weekend

Keep it Larger than life

Peas and taters

Paul 

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time, legions of lager-lites, grab your tins, your bottles and your pints. .

So onto this week’s episode; where I’ve written a little thing based on a quote from Book 2 of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations  - it’s called On Moaning, Self-Loathing and Pointing the Finger. Hope you enjoy

In the meantime, if you’d like to support my work the best thing you can probably do is introduce it to someone who you think might like it. Alternatively you can make a donation on KO-FI, or BUY-MY-BOOK – The Suburban – there’s only a few copies left of this, or the book of plays I co-wrote – Hip Hop Theatre Anthology or just stream my music or watch the videos or whatever; you know the coo.

That’s it for the update, hope you enjoy the piece.

Have a banging weekend.

Peas and taters

Paul

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Meditations Book 1 – On the Sport of Football Support

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time, this here, the first episode of 2024.

I hope your festive period shenanigans were all good? Lager consumed and laughs had.

Today's main course, Marcus Aurelius and his tasty little book of mediations. I tried to explain what I’m doing with this in the previous episode before Christmas. So I looked at a particular quote from Book 1 for this, went away and wrote a thing entitled On The Sport of Football Support. Now, upon listening back I released there was an error in it. The infamous play-off riot against Birmingham was in 2002, how could I forget it?!

I hope you enjoy this episode and the following ones; I’m enjoying writing them.

Keep it Larger than life in 2024.

Peas and taters

Paul

Cene Magazine interview

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

If you’re able to, these are some ways you can support my work

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

 ON READING BOOKS

An introduction to the next season on Lager time

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening.

Lager Lites of Lager Land Unite.

The day I’m writing this is December 12th, 2023. It’s raining outside and there’s a load of soggy cardboard waiting to be recycled; sounds a little bit like the current Man United squad. I’m pretty sure in the run-up too, and the then run-down of Christmas, this collapsed-cardboard exhibition sitting by my bins, is only going to increase; unless the bin-truck livens-up and relieves me of said cardboard before the January transfer window. Such trivialities pre-occupy my mind on a regular basis, nagging away, nagging away, but why? More on my attempts to wrestle with that in a bit…

So I’ve been pretty busy these last few weeks since I put the final episode out of Young Unprofessional. The drama and music project I co-run throughout the year, with Dream Arts, in London, is this Thursday doing our now annual end-of year Christmas sharing at Marylebone Theatre, where we show the first part of the next piece we’re developing; which is the third show now; so there’s been lots going on with that project.

I did a really fun gig at the Alley Pally a few weeks back (second time I’ve been performed there this year.) with two beatboxers: ABH and Native the Creative, who I know from Beatbox Aacadmey. It was in support of the final show on The Streets’ latest tour. We were only based in the food court there, but it was pretty rammed-out, and we were told at one point, we had more people watching us than the official support act on the main stage. I was on rap duties, and a smattering of percussion, while the other two handled the beats. Had a banging time, mate.

Aside from that, and a few other workshops, I’ve been in my little home studio getting my nut-down studying, in preparation for (hopefully) starting to take on some voice-over work. It’s been something I’ve been looking to do for the last couple of years and I’ve been slowly improving my recording-set up and learning a lot more about that side of things. It’s an investment, but I need something else to bring the reddies in, beyond what I’ve been doing, sometimes I still don’t know how I’ve managed to keep it all going this long. Doing Lager Time has been really helpful in that voice learning process, as I get to try things out here

Meditations on Meditaions

Something else I’ve been doing throughout this year is collecting quotes from the various books I’ve been reading. Which leads me nicely onto the next little season (if you like) of Lager Time, which will be me writing little response pieces, to various quotes from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations; you can consider this an introduction of sorts.

I’ve been reading books, regularly since my late teens, mainly non-fiction but not always. I didn’t used to enjoy reading, I didn’t have the patience for it (and sometimes still don’t) and perhaps saw it as an overstretched tentacle, emanating from my school into my bedroom, prodding me to read some dry book, for which I was supposed to write some muggy essay about, and probably never did; then felt ashamed about not doing it; so swerved books. Maybe.

What I have always had, though, is a ferocious curiosity about all sorts of things. Fused with a frustration and often anger, that there’s all sorts of things that I don’t understand, it drove me to read books; but on my own terms.

Something my dad pointed out to me when I was about 14 (and averse to reading books) – was that I was consuming as much information as I could: on Millwall, football in general and then later, music. Be it teletext, magazines and newspapers, radio, TV shows, asking people questions all the time, etc. All of which, in a sense is reading.  When I did eventually get going with reading books; I thought this is alright, mate, in fact, I loved it (but it’s been a fractious relationship, I can tell you that)

Over the years, I’ve built up a reading habit that’s almost become a ritual for me and I get anxious if I miss it. Sometimes I look forward to travelling on trains, buses, aeroplanes, just because it’s a good chance to read, and I find that something in the motion of travelling helps me get into it.  

As mentioned, I do have a fractious relationship with reading, though, as I’m often in a state of what I can only describe as ‘fizziness,’ which makes reading challenging. It’s probably not that noticeable, unless you’re sat next to me and my leg is constantly shaking, or I’m beatboxing or tapping-out beats, but mentally, it’s like there’s a skip-load of that popping-candy in my head, packed full of e-numbers, popping-off all over the gaff. It makes concentrating very difficult at times, and I’m very easily distracted, by pretty-much anything, like the bin-trucks coming; which is probably why I didn’t get on with school. Sometimes, I might be calm and fairly focused but then I get excited by something I’m reading, which then sets everything off in my nut, like 3am in a 90’s nightclub; when a DJ pulls a banger out.

In case you’re wondering, I did earlier this year, after a very long process, get a diagnosis of ADHD, at 39 years old. Now I know these days, every prick has got some diagnosis or other, and I’m sceptical about exactly what ADHD is, and what seems like a whole industry around it, for something that’s very vague and hard to define; but it did make me examine my own behaviours. Incidentally, one of the other books I read this year, which was really helpful in all that, which I’ve taken loads of quotes from, is Gabor Matte’s The Myth of Normal. Maybe I’ll get into all that caper another time….

Reading books can sometimes take a long-time, especially if it’s a subject matter that requires a lot of thought. I get pissed-off when writers are overly verbose or use Latin and French phrases or figures of speech. My instantaneous reaction is straight to anger; cussing-out the writers for showing-off, or that they’ve deliberately written it in a way to makes it difficult for pricks like me, struggling with it. Or I just use a dictionary or Google or whatever, to look-up the meanings of the bits I don’t understand, then forget what I read about ten minutes later; which leads me nicely to the next bit on this little journey.

At some point last year, I realised that so much of what I was reading, just wasn’t going in, or it was, but only temporarily. I felt like I was missing out on wisdom or something. I started taking photos and keeping a file of bits that I liked, and I did that for a while until I got obsessed with it and realised, I wasn’t making use of any of those quotes, I was just wasting memory on my phone. So I started underlining stuff as I was going along, and then quickly got obsessed with doing that and began underlining almost everything, to the point where the On Liberty book I was reading, earlier this year, is just covered in biro, now rendering some of the pages unreadable.

So the next step, was to systemically go through and start typing up these quotes, and keeping a file for each book, which I eventually divided into chapters with reference numbers, filling-up pages in a Word doc just covered in quotes.

Typing up the quotes is a long process, and sometimes I get disheartened, wondering why on earth I’m doing this, but it does help me process the information and the rhythmic act of typing, can sometimes help to counter-act the fizziness with something a bit more calm and stable; like swapping the Red Bull and Haribo in your lunch-box, for an Evian and an apple. Not always though….

Currently, I’ve got three different books that I’ve ploughed through and collected quotes from and I’m going to start with Meditations; which is full of goodness, kinda wished I’d known about it when I was younger. I can’t even remember now, how is it I got into reading about Stoicism and Marcus Aurelius’, probably just another rabbit-hole I found myself down in a state of fizziness but realised there’s good some pretty good stuff in it all.

My plan at the moment, is to write one piece for each of the 12 books that make up Mediations, there’s a lot of quotes to choose from. I’ve written one so far, but I’d like to build up a few pieces before I start putting them out on here. No idea what I’ll do after that, maybe tackle On Liberty, which I’ve been thinking about. You can expect to hear from me probably in the new year, but who knows, maybe sooner, depends If I can get this vocal booth up that I’m meant to be building, with my less than basic building skills.

Thanks for sticking with it this year, and supporting what I do, even if you subscribed just because you know me, or some algorithm suggested it and you’ve no idea what the faaack this is; I don’t really know either; but I apricate the time it takes to listen or read.

Whatever it is you’re doing, I hope you’re safe in the world and moving forwards.

Have a banging Christmas and New Year

Keep it larger than life

Peas and taters

Paul

If you’re able to, these are ways you can support my work

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Easy! If you enjoy this and would like to support my work, you can subscribe to this and or make a dontion on Ki Fi - BUY-ME-A-LAGER https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Welcome to Lager Time, fellow patrons of the Lager Nation, as we unwind, we let the lager flow and free our collective minds, or some such bollox.

Yes indeed. Apologies for the short absence, these last few weeks I didn’t quite anticipate it being this long but here we are, such is life. I am at times, a little disorganised but I’ve also been pretty busy. There’s been a lot of back and forth to London, days at a time, meaning I’m away for my little home studio, there’s been a couple of funerals, two weeks in a row, which have both been on Friday’s, which is normally my day for putting the podcast out; so I’m sure you’ll understand,

So what have I been doing? Couple of weeks back, I had the pleasure of working at the Battersea Arts Centre, a place which I’ve done lots of stuff over the last 14 years, mate. It was the place I first got involved in theatre, had my first professional performing jobs, as well my first jobs, my first assistant roles doing workshop, met Conrad Murray etc etc.

So I was back working with the almighty Beatbox Academy (who I’ve worked with, on and off, for many years.) It was the opening week for their latest show, Pied Piper, which is a re-telling of the classic-story, as hip hop musical, sounds it’s all beats, bars, and a lot of singing and some pretty sublime harmonies and melodies. All the sounds are made on stage, by the cast and it’s pretty damn good.

Conrad Murray, who is the creator of the show and co-director with Ria Parry. Con is a good pal of mine, we set up Beats & Elements together (ten years ago now) – and I know all the cast too, some of which are good friends of mine. Yes I’m biased, but the show is a banger, mate! Fun for all the family.

The whole run sold-out and it’s had some really good reviews so far, and it now goes on tour, next stop Canterbury if you’re down there. So there’s a part of the show, which involves some of the younger members of the academy, which I was co-leading on. It was fun, got to go on stage twice a day, to packed out audiences who were having a great time. It was a fun week.

I also stepped-up and performed at the Anti-Slam, which is a tongue-in-cheek, satirical take on a poetry slam. It was at the very cool Pleasence Theatre in London. The night itself was really fun, my bit could’ve gone better to be honest. I really enjoyed writing it, learning it, but I don’t think it landed that well on the night. Oh well, sometimes you try these things. I think also, some of the other acts were simply very good. Large up Kareem Parkins Brown who won on the night, and was very entertaining.

I also this week passed my driving test, so well done me. First time and all that. 40 years old, mate. Think I got a bit lucky. Means I’ve got get a little motor now, and generally become a bit more useful to my wife and my family. Which is good, I hope

Alright, so, onto this week’s little Young Unprofessional piece. It’s the final piece in this first little foray into doing this stuff. Just Another Day(Te) – little wordplay there. I managed to sneakily record it on Tuesday but my little doggies were making a lot of noise which you may hear on the recording. I’ve enjoyed doing this, I don’t know if anyone else has, but you know, I’m only dong this because I like doing it. I want to take a bit of time and go back through them, look at the form of it, so what I can do more of etc etc.  I’ve got a few older pieces in the Reece character which I might record and put out, for posterity purposes. But well see, mate. As ever, everything on here is a work-in-progress, like my Anti-Slam gig, some things work, some don’t, that’s the game mate.

In the meantime, I’ve been slowly adding old poems and lyrics, complete with video or audio, onto my website if you fancy taking a look - https://paulcree.co.uk/lyricsandpoems

Some more links below to support my work (or in the podcast description)

That’s it for now

I’ll be back with something, probably in a couple of weeks time

Keep it Larger than life

Peas and taters

Paul

If you’re able to, these are ways you can support my work

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

SHOW LINKS

Piped Piper @ The Gulbenjier, Canterbury Dec 6th 10th

https://thegulbenkian.co.uk/events/pied-piper/

Kareem Parkins Brown – Poet

https://www.instagram.com/parkinsbrown/

Conrad Murray

https://www.conradmurray.org/

Just Another Day(te)

So we’d agreed Thursday for the date with Alice. Date. Can’t believe I’m saying that, what happened to just, having a drink? Going a drink? Anyway, it was a Thursday. ‘ave that Stuart, a Thursday, priorities, mate! Be At One cocktail bar in Holborn. Despite vowing to not tell anyone, I told pretty much everyone; which totals about seven people. Such as to say, whilst I was making my way there, I received three text messages all wishing me good luck. Even Diane from work sent me one?! Diane… was she hinting at… na.

Do people do that before someone goes on a date, though? Surely for some cosmopolitan young twenty something Londoner, especially a geezer, who probably does this type of thing all time all the time, they don’t get those sorts of messages, do they? It was hard not to read too much into those texts. It felt as if they’re were saying ‘Reece, we don’t know how this has happened, or how desperate this person is, but you’re going on a date, good luck, son, you’ll need it’-  but it did make me realise I probably shouldn’t have told anyone, probably. I was a bit embarrassed, I don’t like drawing attention to myself like that, it’s to exposing.  Even Gary sent me a good luck message, of sorts. It said ‘Do the business, mate, you can’t be a nonce your whole life.’ He meant well.

I went straight from work. Got changed in the carzi. Took off my work shirt, and changed into a long-sleeved blue one that I’d bought in Topman. Kept, my work trousers and shoes on. I guess I looked kind of smart? It was about as smart as I’d get. Ideally, I’d least have the Air Max on, and maybe a Lacoste polo, letting her know I’ve got the street-geezer edge, little bit hip hop little bit football casual, but I was worried this bar would have a dress-code. Fucking dress codes.

 I didn’t want to be late, so I got there early, like really early, and walked over to the bar. I don’t normally go in cocktail bars, only really when I’m on dates, or birthday parties. I don’t really go on dates, and don’t have that many mates, so I don’t really go in cocktail bars; unless it’s some work doo. Basically, I don’t go in cocktail bars. I looked inside and it was packed full of young 20’s and 30’s types. Some in couples, some in groups, some looking like the post-work crowd; still boozing. I figured it was too early to go in, especially on my ones, so I bopped round to The Crown, safer-ground, where I’d met that prick Stuart Simmons a few weeks before; he who put me onto this Gumtree online dating caper. It’d come full circle.

‘Look at me now Stuart, I’ve made it, I’m on a date, you can’t laugh at me now… and I’ve still got your Spiderman Game on the PS1! I’m gonna make love to this girl with that on in the background, on pause, just looping around. And what, bruv?!’

He’s a prick, but I guess he had done something good here. Alice seems really nice, from the computer anyway. And she’s a teacher, with like, a proper job, a career. I’m probably out of depth here. There was a lot at stake. I was excited, and nervous, and anxious; I’d been thinking about it all day, all week. I pretty much did nothing back at work, which is only slightly less than what I normally do.

I got a pint of that Alpine lager in, told myself I had time to kill, so sip it slow. Yea. Something else must’ve kicked in and overrode that internal command, because I did it in about four gulps; without even noticing. It’s like I couldn’t help myself, like my right hand was a magnet to the glass and my elbow was automated to go up and down and I didn’t know where the off-button was. It just goes down to easy. I was trying to read a copy of the Metro on the table, but no words were going into my brain. Just staring a picture of Frank Lampard celebrating a goal for Chelsea. I wonder what Frank Lampard would be doing in my position.

All I could think about were various scenarios of me impressing Alice, with my suave free-spirit-creative-vibes, but with the coating of a geezer who’s got a bit about him. Not some posh kid who writes poetry on a tree-protest. Obviously. She needed to know that I was good guy, but I weren’t no melt, like Stuart Simmons, or any of his London mates.

Three pints later and I had half-an hour before we were due to meet. I was gassed-up and already fizzing with that lager buzz, feeling good but also like I shouldn’t have drunk all that booze, a few burps slipping-out, worried that I might’ve already crossed that threshold, when talk just goes into turbo breeze and I’m just spouting hot air, like a malfunctioning kettle close to boiling point or more like implosion.

I slipped in to the carzy for a Pat Cash and a sneaky spray of a Hugo Boss miniature, that I’d bought off Kemal from work, he had a load of them so I bought a set; some mate of his that worked in Duty Free or something; was getting job-lots of them. Whilst I was washing my hands, I noticed the jonny machine. Up until that point, the thought of banging, sleeping together, hadn’t even occurred to me. I’d been pretty much entirely focused on hoping she was cool, whilst not making a complete dickhead out of myself, which I was at permanent risk of doing. It’d been a good while since I’d even got close to a chick like that, for even a kiss, let alone anything else. What was I meant to do here? I certainly wasn’t planning on bangs, I felt lucky enough to even have a toenail in the door with a chick, a girl, a female, a lady, a women, with a job, and a career, and opinions, and a sense of humour, who seemed really nice, and funny, this was far from a sealed deal. Yet, what am I meant to do here? There’s clearly some sort of rules to this caper; rules which have passed me by. If it went well, and things heated up a bit, she might think I was naïve if I didn’t have them? Or reckless? But then, if I did, she might think I’m too presumptuous? Arrogant even? Disrespectful? I didn’t want to be any of those things. This debacle was stressing me out. I stood there by the sink and wondered if many a geezer had been in this predicament, like Frank Lampard, where, whatever you did, you were probably gonna get it wrong.

 I thought about texting Gary, but then I knew what he would likely say. I had no idea what Frank Lampard would say, probably some football platitude about the lads putting in a good shift. So I rung Stuart, he laughed and told me to buy them, just to be on the safe side, figuratively and literally. Good advice, I thought and despite being a melt, he seemed to have done alright with the ladies of late. It’s like he came into his own at uni or something. Lord knows how, he played Warhammer when we were kids, not even I had the temerity to do that (though I can’t lie, I was tempted.)

So I bought a pack of jonnies. The process of popping a couple of nuggets in the machine and the packet coming out, made me feel good, like a man, or something, sort of. I actually had a reason to be buying jonnies, for once. I was hoping another geezer would come in the carzy, like Frank Lampard, and see me buying the jonnies, like it’s nothing, and give me that nod of respect. Not like back when we were teens when we’d would take turns to buy them in the shopping centre toilets, fill them up with water and throw them off the top floor.

I stuck the rubbers in my pocket, which left a bit of a bulge but I had nowhere else to put them.  Bowled out that carzy, three pints in, a bit lagered-up, jonnies in my pocket, wearing that alpha-male swag like I’d just bought it from a fancy dress shop; felt good though, even if I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Being half-cut at least made me forget, how woefully unprepared I was, for any of this.

Alice sent me a text saying she was running ten minutes late. I could deal with that, I thought, and my fears were numbed enough from those pre-pints to step into the cocktail place on my Jack Jones. She messaged me, which to me was a good-sign, she hadn’t ghosted me yet, like that time in year nine when Natalie Longden agreed to go to the cinema with me, but never turned up and I stood outside the ABC for two hours.

It looked like a few of the post-work boozers had cleared out as a couple of tables had come free. Stepped up to the bar, picked up a menu and looked at it for all of about ten seconds; there were multiple cocktails on there, none of which I knew what they were, and I didn’t have the patience to read the ingredients; so I got another pint in; they had kronenburg on tap; which considering I was three pints in, on an empty stomach, weren’t the best idea. Kroenburg was in the naughty club; up there with Stella; personal favourite of mine, but I knew to tread carefully. I had a penchant for the naughty lagers but had gotton myself in trouble on those, many, many times before. But there were other forces at work here, familiarity won out, revealing I know nothing about cocktails, or much else for that matter.

I sat, or perched, like a budgie, on this awkwardly high stool by the awkwardly high, tiny round table. Who actually wants to sit at these? They’re so uncomfortable. I took regular small sips of the pint, and kept the phone in my hand, routinely reading the messages she’d sent me, nodding my head along to the generic house music, which was just about at background level, that no one else was listening too. I’d gone from feeling alright to shaking, and I couldn’t stop tapping my foot, to the point where I wobbled the table and spilt a bit of the pint, which went on my hand and on my shirt. I managed to get some napkin form the bar, to wipe off the booze, some of which had also gone on my phone, when Alice rung me. Shit. I sort of panicked and said ‘hello’ – voice going up an octave, and could about make out a female voice with a slight northern accent, saying

‘I’m here, where are you?’

I look up, and no more than ten metres away is this small, petit girl with dark blonde hair, with glasses, shoulder length, wearing a cream jacket, with a big clutch bag on her shoulder, blue jeans, flat converse trainers, standing there on her phone, looking around. She looked alright, bit small, but shit, alright, mate. And she’s wearing trainers. Should’ve worn mine!

‘I think I can see you ‘

I said, napkin stuck to my arm, which I’d just realised. She turns round and sort of clocks me and walks forward. I unstuck the tissue, awkwardly climbed off my perch to greet her.  She looked kind of tentative walking towards me. Fair enough, I’m a stranger, you don’t know me etc. I might be a nonce or something, which I’m not, obviously, or wait maybe it’s not that obvious? Shit, I hope not. But she don’t know that I’m not a nonce, so she was tentative, nervous. Like me.  Maybe she’s  a nonce?

As she’s walking towards me, I’m thinking; what do I here? Is this a handshake thing, a hug thing, a kiss on the cheek thing? A two kiss on the cheek thing? What would Frank Lampard do? But before I knew it, I’d gone for some clumsy hybrid of a handshake and a hug and almost like fell into her. I got close enough to know her head came pretty much just by my chest, and that she smelled nice, even if she did have to lean back to avoid me crashing into her..

‘Sorry’ I said, I weren’t quite sure what to do there.’

She laughed though, and said ‘hello, I’m Alice.’ It was a nervous laugh, but you know, understandable. ‘It’s alright’, she said, ‘we can hug.’ And we hugged, and she still smelt nice.

As first impressions go, I don’t think I was doing that well. She had to climb a bit to get on the stool, and laughed while doing it. Do I laugh here? Is that appropriate? That would draw attention to her petiteness and I don’t think I’d earned that right yet. But we get into the small talk anyway, how’s your journey and your day so far and all that caper. I can do that bit, but I could already hear the wind-chimes indicating that I could unleash a whirlwind of turbo breeze at any minute, and talk a load of complete bollox, scaring her away. Had a cursory glance at my pint and I was already two thirds down. Do you want a drink, I said? She said ,yes please, and asked me to choose her a cocktail, that’s a good sign right, bit flirty, but shit, she’s gonna realise I know nothing about cocktails. I came back with a Long Island ice tea because that’s the only one I’d heard of. She looked surprise and went, ‘ok, that’s a strong one’. Not sure what that meant, though, but I don’t think it was good.

At the bar I spied they had bottles of Peroni so I downgraded myself to that, I had to keep the storm at bay, otherwise all hell would break loose, and I was already close. I was at the four-pint threshold with no food and a big potato sack of nerves, raging through me. This was a terrible combination; this was going to take all my mental powers to hold it together.

She seemed a bit reserved, and was looking around a bit, whilst we were talking, this wasn’t a good sign. I was trying to compensate for this with more chat, which was increasingly looking like bollox. However, I’d noticed she had a slight northern accent and asked her where she was from. She seemed receptive to this question and told me she was from some town in Lancashire, which she said was a bit of a dump but didn’t mind it, as it was where she grew up, I respected that. Came to London for uni and stayed ever since. I then got her talking about her job, and what she liked about it, which was good because it meant I wasn’t talking, and I knew a little bit about teaching. She genuinely seemed to love her job, some little primary school in Notting Hill and the more she talked, the more cool she seemed. She had a lovely smile. Slight gap between the teeth but it was cute. Not the best looking chick ever, but you know, she was alright. She then asked me the same question. I guess that’s what this game is, when you’re both a bit nervous, and trying to be polite, you ask each other questions and while they’re talking you try to think of something witty to say whilst also trying to not be a dickhead; which for me, was proving very, very difficult. I told her about New Town, and growing up there and never really doing much.

‘So you just came to London then? No uni?’

Pretty much I said, expecting to think I was some kind of looser. From the sounds of it, where she’s from, geezers like me don’t leave. Which was a bit like New Town. I guess I am a bit different in that respect. Good for you she said, Uni was the only way I was ever gonna get out.

We get on to the next drink, I’m just about holding back the drunkenness, I think she could tell, shouldn’t have been late then, Alice?! She has a Martini this time and buys some crisps, which was a touch, as I think I needed some kind of sandbag in my liver to absorb some of the booze.  I could see she was relaxing a little bit more. I noticed her at the bar, texting, who though? She came back with a smile, of sorts, and some crisps. So where’s your favourite place to go on holiday then?

Bollox, I could lie here but fuck it.

I haven’t been on holiday in years, I said. We used to go to Camber Sands when I was a kid, had a couple of lads holidays which to be honest were a bit shit, just got sunburn and spent loads of money. She laughd at that. I’ve never been there but I’d like to see the middle east, maybe, like all of it. Iraq, Irsael, Iran, Syria I dunno. Never been to any of them.

Interesting, how come? She said.

I dunno, something about the region interesrts me.

Like what? She said, really looking at me. I couldn’t hold her stare for long, I looked at the beermat

I dunno. Three of the worlds major religions are from there, in that one little spot on the map, so much of we know. The old spice roads and the ancient civilisations and all that. I dunno, maths and science, and discoveries and, like other stuff. Just find it interesting, it’s like the middle of the world or something.

Not quite the answer I’d expected but fair enough. You ask me a question? Go on.

Shit, she was taking control, and I had no idea what to asj.

‘Erm do you like music?’

She laughed, that’s a rubbish question, you’ve already asked me this question in one of your messages.

Oh yea.

She laughed again, ‘also, who doesn’t like music?’

I dunno, there’s bound to be some perverts out there who don’t

She laughed again. ‘Perverts?’

Shit, I’m not even trying to make her laugh here, but she’s laughing. Is she laughing at me though?.

My dad doesn’t really like music, you calling him a pervert?

What?! Na, na, er not at all.

It’s alright, I’m just teasing ya… he is a pervert

Really?.... Oh right…

Course he’s not, I’m just teasing you again.

Oh, ok.

Jesus, she was playing me!

Ok, next question then?

Erm who’s your favourite celebrity?

Another corker of a question.

Sorry

Stop saying sorry. I’ll answer it though. Gloria Estefan. Me and mum love her, sometimes we stand in the kitchen and sing Rhythm Is Gonna Get You, mainly when dad is out, as he hates it. So what about you then?

I hate these questions, had no idea what to say.

Err Frank Lampard.

The footballer?

Yea

Why?

He’s err a role model, kinda there when I need him, sort of.

I’ve no idea what that meant, why did I say that?

She laughed again, looked at me for a few seconds then checked the time on her phone, looking a bit mor anxious. We chatted a bit more, I talked this time about my family, Tanya who’s a cousin, my job. She seemed more and more occupied, though, and checked her phone again.

Do you want another drink? I said

No you’re alright, I’ve gotta head off. It’s almost ten and I’m up up early, so if you don’t mind I’m gonna say goodbuy.

Shit. Suddenly her demeanour had changed a bit, I think she’d seen through me.

Ah no worries, I should probably get off myself off as well, I’ve enjoyed it though.

Yea she said, unconvincingly, whilst climbing down off her chair and opening her handbag.

I got up myself, to sort of see her off, with no idea what to do, so I tried to play it cool and look like this was all fine, you know business as usual but suddenly feeling awkward and before I knew that automated arm was doing its own thing again, and had reached into my pocket for my oyster card, and without thinking pulled out my wallet, and the pack of jonnies, and plonked them on the table; before I could even register what I was doing.

She looked at them, then at me, with a sort of bemused look.

 I didn’t know what to say.

Oh shit sorry

She looked at me, what are you sorry about?

 I didn’t mean to get those out. I weren’t suggesting anything, I forgot they were in there. Do you want me to walk with you to the tube station?

She ignored the question. Do you always get those out on first dates?

No… I didn’t know what to do, my mate advised me to get them just in case..

Just in case what?! She seemed pissed-off, now. And who is this, mate? Frank Lampard?!

Was she brining Frank into this before, he didn’t do anything. I didn’t saying anything, and then in some sort of desperation repeated

Do you me to walk you to the station?

No I’m fine, thankyou. It was nice meeting you.

No kiss, no hug, no handshake, she just turned and walked off, didn’t even look back. I slumped back down, elbow on the tables, head in hands. I blame Stuart. Dickhead.

I was blasting out Broken Wings again on the train home. Did the routine,  Got off, kebab, smashed that, sauce in my chin, back to the flat, straight to bed. I wasn’t going too as I knew it was a lost cause but decided to send her a text message and apologised for my clumsiness. Explained that I didn’t really know what the correct thing to do was, so I was just being precautious. She didn’t reply.

Next day at work, Dianne weren’t in and I was low down enough on most peoples priority list, to not give a shit about the fact that I’d gone on a date, so no one asked me, which was a good thing. I’d come to the conclusion that the whole date was a little like a Division Two side getting a plum cup-match against a Premier League outfit. Of course, I was the underdog going into it, no one expecting me to actually doing anything, just hoping for some of that cup magic. Held my own for a bit, showed a few glimpses of something and then eventually collapsed, standard I suppose.

Got to about 5pm, whilst pretending to look at this customer, my phone vibrates and it’s Alice. She said sorry she’d not replied and don’t worry about the whole thing. She had some bad family news whilst we were there and said she’d overreacted a bit, was a bit upset and maybe in a few weeks, did I want to go out again?

Shit. Sick! I didn’t know what to do here? I mean obviously my answer was yes, but like when do I respond?? Leave it a couple of days? What would Frank Lamp… oh fuck that. No worries, I said, and yes I’d like that. Speak to you soon, Reece.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

This week’s Young Unprofessional will be the penultimate one for a bit, so I can sit down, have a look back through it and see where I want to go next with it. There’s some more older stuff which I’ve found in the last week, which I’d like to put on here at somepoint. Anyway, this week Reece gets sent on a Time Management course at work, and is then inspired to document his working-day.

Enjoy

Don’t forget to subscribe and all that, and if you think a mate might like it, let ‘em know. Check the links at the bottom for other ways to support my work

Have a banging weekend

Peas and taters

Paul

LINKS

Anti-Slam @ Pleasence, Islington 31.10.23 T

https://www.pleasance.co.uk/event/anti-slam

Paula Varjack – Writer and performance artist

http://www.paulavarjack.com/

Dan Simpson – poet and writer

https://www.dansimpsonpoet.co.uk/

Nial O’Sullivan – Rusty Niall

Gary W Hartley aka Gary From Leeds (await the second coming)

https://medium.com/insectsandthat

If you’re able to, these are ways you can support my work

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Welcome to Lager Time, my name is Paul Cree, this is my lager verse, where I share bits of writing, music and the occasional on thoughts on things.

Young Unprofessional story, episode 4. Reece has taken the advice off his mate, Stuart and istrying his luck meeting some females on mid-2000’s all-in-one sight Gumtree. I’ve called it Melt-Tree

Enjoy

Don’t forget, if you, subscribe and if you want to support the work, there’s a link for my Kofi, where you can make a donation, if you so wish

Paul

If you’re able to, these are some ways you can support my work

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

My 1st book collection of stories and poems

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

Beats & Elements: A Hip Hop Theatre Trilogy

2 plays I co-wrote plus Denmarked by Conrad Murray

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/beats-and-elements-a-hip-hop-theatre-trilogy

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time, the Lager March continues, indeed.

So this week is episode three of Young Unprofessional, where Reece goes for a few beers with his old schoolmate, Stuart Simmons

Enjoy

LINKS

David and Lizzie Turner

https://www.youdontknow.uk/

THE SUBURBAN BOOK

www.paulcree.co.uk/shop

STREAM TOAST IN THE MACHINE EP

https://paulcree.hearnow.com/toast-in-the-machine

BUY-ME-A-LAGER

https://ko-fi.com/paulcree

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to Lager Time.

LagerLites of lagerland, lift your lagers in the sky, and rejoice, it’s lager time

This is a Lager Time first this week , as I’m debuting a story called Spin, written by my good friend and sometime collaborator, Christana Lei.

SPIN

Written by Christana Lei

Voiced by Paul Cree

Intro by Christana Lei

This story is a chapter that never made it into a novel I’m working on.Inspired by my love for the young people I was lucky enough to spend serious time with, when working in a PRU back in 2010. Inspired too by the lyrics of a song called Sad But True by the legendary Metallica (1991), whose lyrics are used throughout. When I write, I tend to imagine my writing like a film playing out in front of me, and if I had the production budget, Metallica would be the soundtrack to this one. Maybe you’ll hear themes in the story but that’s not intentional: It was just an exercise in witnessing and acknowledging the violence that happens with no rhyme or reason, no matter how much we want to find reasons for it, in an attempt to impose order on chaos. It seems that the attempts to do this by those of us who are on the edges but not in the violence; an attempt we make to preserve our own sanity and faith in human nature, more often than not just leads to victim-blaming.I hope Spin pays homage to some of the experiences some of us (hopefully) survive in this messy, sometimes brutal business of being human. And that now Paul has performed it, I can forget about it completely, because it is out of my system. (Which means Paul is now kind of an Exorcist). Enjoy.Christana Lei

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

I’ve got a few live-gogs coming up this week, so in order to help me prepare, I ran through, and recorded a set of poems, stories and a few *attempts* at tracks on the loop-station.

As ever with this episodes, it’s rough and ready but I that’s the point, helps me get match fit!

Remember, you catch me this Friday at Poetry & Poppadums, Karmel, Wood Green, London.

FULL SET LIST

1 - Trap It

2- Times of Respect

3- Whoever Said It Was Easy

4- Fair & Square

5- Chair Wars

6- Not quite A Cheetah

7- Premium Speed Ghost Train

8- Slow and Steady

9 - No Milk For The Foxes

10 - Now, What Do You Want To Say?

11 - Watts & Pommerlers

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com