London's Rags to Riches

Lou was organising a dinner with a few friends so I was meeting with her at her house in West London, late Friday afternoon.

One of friends who was invited to dinner was a person called 'Trudy'.

I should just point out that 'Trudy' is just a name in which to protect the identity of this person and in no way signifies this person is definitely of the female sex. She could in fact be a He, or He could be a She. But for the purpose of this post I shall refer to 'Trudy' as a She instead of an 'It'.

Trudy has been in our lives for about 20 years, off and on. A very eccentric character, but extremely creative and very clever. Over the years we have watched her rise meteorically in a specific industry in a way that the rest of us just dream about.

She is very famous in this industry and has made a few bob. It's the classic Rags to Riches life-story, a poor little lost soul who made it and made it well....although just how well, I wasn't prepared for.

I whizzed up on the train to go to Lou's but got side-tracked along the way.

Trudy and I had been texting each other and agreed to meet up for a quick drink beforehand.

I travelled from Victoria, all the way to North London, which is not for the faint-hearted on a Friday afternoon, especially when your lugging around a big, bulky, bastard overnight bag, that seemed to get caught on everything.

After three sodding tube changes, I finally arrived - a bit dishevelled and a bit knackered.

I hadn't seen her in about 6 months, so it was good to have a chat and catch up on our lives. We live in a different universe to each other. She doesn't really have a clue about my life and I don't have a clue about hers.

So I asked her how she was doing. She said that she was doing very well indeed.....In fact she was no longer a millionairess, she was now a multi-millionairess.

I had to ask didn't I!

It appears that she has been catapulted into a financial stratosphere, where only a privileged few are allowed.

I was deeply shocked. I was also shocked at how those words cut me like a knife.

She seemed to think I knew, but I live in my own bubble and had no idea.

It shocked me so much I didn't know what to say to her..... so I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed! Partly because I just couldn't believe it and partly because I just didn't know what to say! Gob-smacked!!!

She then said she had to run back to a meeting but that I was to get a cab to Lou's and she would pay for it. I said that I didn't like taking money from her, but she gave me the money anyway. We said our goodbyes and that we would see each other later.

I flagged down a cab and climbed in. Then I cried. I cried all the way from bloody Islington to Shepherds Bush with a very understanding cab driver!

Why I was crying? I don't know.

Maybe it was:

(a) The relief of not getting back on that sodding tube.

(b) The fact that someone had actually given me some money which I hadn't worked my fingers to the bone for.

(c) Seeing Trudy again - she still means a lot to me.

(d) The fact that I've been scrimping and scraping around for a bloody fiver since the age of 17 and it has never, ever frigging stopped!

(e) That the money she had given me didn't cover the cab fare!

Anyhow, I finally made it to Lou's, where she had put on a lovely dinner. A shepherds pie that cost 43 quid (!) and lots of booze. Dandy, her boyfriend, did a good interpretation of Tom Cruise from the film Cocktail. Shaking his little cocktail shaker around....!

Trudy text both of us saying she couldn't come, we had all this booze and food and in - bloody loads of it. So, like any normal people, we thought - more for us!

We were all a bit squiffy from the cocktails and I had been watching Lou's two dogs sniffing each other.

I said, "Why do dogs sniff each other's arses - humans don't do that."

Lou replied "I wouldn't bet on it!"

It was right there at that moment, I suddenly remembered;

We were the naughty teenagers making rude remarks about 'rimming' and giggling intensely and shocking our other friends, that it didn't matter anymore about having a 'pot to piss in' - what mattered were friends, family and having each other to rely on, to have fun with - through the good times and the bad times and through the Rag times and the Rich times.

I just wish it my rich time!

London's Rags to Riches