When I first moved to Tooting, I'd just returned from working on this horrendous no-budget movie shoot in Brighton, where, by the end, everyone involved had somehow managed to hurl themselves wholeheartedly into the deep end of the insanity pool.
The art of stair-surfing pre-dates Mainline Run by a few months, but it wasn't until Tooting that it developed into an art-form. The original idea was to see if we could get down the stairs on an ironing board. The answer to that is no. What tends to happen is that the front end gets caught in a stair and the 'surfer' hits the bottom without hitting a single stair on the way down. I don't remember too much about the details; you have to be fairly steamed to try such a stupid idea out in the first place.
In Waterloo Street we built upon the concept of bumping down stairs on your arse by adding more alcohol, in-journey drinking, water weapons, lying down, going backwards and eventually a combination of all together. That, I don't recommend as it could incur some serious and permanent damage. It was a hoot.
I thought stair-surfing had pretty much died out until the other day when this guy came sailing towards me down the escalator at Waterloo. Backwards. A couple of us managed to prevent him from carrying on to the bottom, for which he seemed to be reasonably grateful.
Watching: Eastern Promises
Listening to: Steve Earle and the Bluegrass Dukes
No comments:
Post a Comment