“ONE SINGLE ROSE IN NEWCASTLE”
‘I’m not the one to ask for advice. I’ve had all the same problems. My men haven’t stuck around.’
So I thanked the cleaner and left the hotel.
‘One single rose. One card to say: I love you.’ Arthur advised me.
Arthur wanted some money for food. He had a mate waiting off behind him. I offered Arthur the crisps in my bag. He said money for food later.
His last advice was this:
I decided to review hand dryers.
Burger King on Northumberland Street had a vintage Vent Axia. The sink to hand drier ratio was 2:1. It was motion sensitive, and the same puff as my emphysemic grandad used to muster.
I bought some football boots from Sports Direct, as I hadn’t known metal studs were banned in our league.
In Eldon Square shopping centre I couldn’t find the toilets. So there were no hand driers to be reviewed there. I got lost; sat down on a bench because of sweat and a hangover. I took off my coat.
There was gum tacked all over it. It was becoming a day of disappointments.
H&M had no toilets I could see. I couldn’t find Mcdonalds. And I assumed you had to be a patron of Greggs to review their hand driers, so I just walked past.
I would walk around Newcastle, I decided.
Stevie D from Liverpool was saying to everyone: ‘I know you can all whistle, you do it at the football! Have a bit of fun! Have a whistle!’
Tony was the only guy that whistled.
It looked like an ACME Thunderer 60.5 Metal Official Referee whistle. It blew my ear open.
I said: ‘See you later Tony.’ But he didn’t hear me.
I would go back to the hotel.
On my way I thought: ‘I should have asked people, where’s the place to find love in Newcastle?’
Then I saw Arthur’s mate walk past, the one who had been waiting off behind him. But there was no Arthur around.
The last thing I did was take this photo, a street I walked past:
I’d thought there’d be something colourful in it. But I’m a rubbish photographer. And it’s ordinary photograph.
I prefer this video of Arthur: