Last Updated on 17/11/2019 by Alex Squire
This past Friday I went to the Carnival of light at the Engine Shed in Lincoln. It was a clubbing night – not clubbing seals but music.
There were dancers walking through the crowd on stilts wearing light covered costumes. They also had people performing on stage by juggling fire and spinning glowing orbs around their head.
Lots of people in the crowd had foam sticks with multicoloured lights inside them. And some people came covered in lights themselves. There was one guy who had an illuminated tube wrapped around his legs and body.
I bought some glow sticks to try and get in on the act too. I did buy a big one that was the length of my forearm but its glow was pathetic. A candle would have been brighter.
Part way through the evening an unusual incident occurred.
I was sat in the middle of the crowd when a girl walked past me. I smiled at her. She then proceeded to whack me on the head 4 times in quick succession with the foam light stick. They weren’t just light taps either, she put some effort into it. Then she just walked off.
I don’t know what was going through that girl’s mind. Maybe I have to work on my smile if that’s the kind of reaction it provokes. Or maybe I just have one of those faces that makes people want to beat the shit out of me.
After the first whack I became aware that my glasses were no longer on my face. I had no idea where they went. The force of the beating must have propelled them onto the floor somewhere.
My carer started crawling around on the floor amidst a sea of legs trying to find them, whilst at the same time trying not to look like a pervert attempting to peer up the ladies skirts.
Eventually, we found one of the dismembered lenses. Not the frames, just a lens. RIP glasses, you served me well – even if it was for only 2 months.
Maybe I could still use it as a monocle?
The rest of the night was, quite literally, a blur. I can make out what nearby objects are without my glasses but everything is blurry.
And the hijinks continued. Later on that night my drink managed to get spilled in my lap – so it looked like I’d pissed myself. We covered it up with my coat, and it was only half an hour before I was leaving anyway.
It wasn’t all bad though. I did meet some nice people and got a few hugs and kisses from some girls.
So, swings and roundabouts I guess.
Luckily I have some spare glasses at home, but they are my old lenses. Now I just have to go and order some more glasses from the opticians, and hope that they survive longer than the last ones.
The glasses are dead. Long live the glasses.
