Valentine’s Day Disaster
If you’re wondering why you haven’t heard from me for a while, I’ll tell you. In all the years of writing this blog I have never suffered any injuries. Not one. Pretty amazing all things considered. Some might say flying about with a camera strapped to me might be hazardous to say the least, but no. Nothing.
It also has to be said that in all the years of doing this I have never given a flying fuck about Valentine’s Day either. Apart from anything else I’ve not really had much cause to if you get my drift.
This year, they both come at once. Total nightmare.
Met a half decent bird a couple of weeks ago called Sally. We got on pretty well and seemed to have quite a bit in common like being interested in bagels and trying out different types of nut. We even agreed on a favourite – the Brazil. She seemed pretty into me writing Pigeon Blog for as long as I have too (even though she said she’d never read it). Anyway, cut a long story short I decided to take her out on Valentine’s Day. Mart suggested a throwaway on Brick Lane, but I wanted to go a bit more up market. If I was in the zone for a possible legover I had to get it right, so I decided on a sunset ride on a Millennium Wheel pod. Perfect. Both of us staring into out over London. Wings slightly touching. I’ve never done it myself but heard it’s pretty easy to hold on and doesn’t go that fast.
So – Feb 14th comes. I get up and go for the necessary wash in Leicester Square and what happens? I stub my fucking toe getting out. Never been in so much pain. Jesus. Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t stand. Swelled up like a fucking potato. Just had to get back in the water and sit there while Mart went to tell Sally the date was off.
Thankfully the toe has gone down a bit now so hopefully we can do it next week instead. Tell you one thing though – never again will I ever mention the word Valentine.