Took Mini-me to the Old Museum Arts Centre today as they were doing some things for the Belfast Children’s Festival which ended today. Buzzing the door didn’t get a reply for 5 minutes and we eventually got in after having to get someone to phone them up.
When the door was opened a weird looking fucker who looked as if he’s no friends and has been disowned by his family shortly after birth gave us a “where the fuck do you think you’re going” sort of look. When I told him we were here for the “Tall Tales, storytelling for 4-6 year olds” (the clue was the 4 yr old holding my hand) he answered simply that the storyteller had gone home (to a bottle of cider no doubt) despite the fact that storytelling was to have been taking place every hour until closing at 6pm. He helpfully gave no explanation as to why the storyteller had gone home which confirmed by suspicions that a bar stool might be involved.The weird fucker, when asked for alternative events for a 4 yr old, directed me to a book store in Botanic Avenue.
We made our way there, got lots of attention from all 3 (weird looking) staff (then again, aren’t all book store employees weird looking?) only to find out that the book store specialised in crime novels and the reading here was for 7 to 11 yr olds.
I had to nurse a crushed 4 yr old for the rest of the day. Still, next time she walks into a book store she’ll reflexively blurt out “Useless, weird fuckers” without consciously remembering how or when she learned it. Ah, it’s not the big things that make us happy…
I bet that’ll be funny, years later, coming out in therapy!
was that sunday afternoon? I was in said same bookstore…..but left after about thirty seconds as my mate and I got dirty looks for talking……cheeky fookers…….
blondefabulous, she’ll need more than 1 therapist.
manuel, it was. Were the staff weird looking fuckers?
very…….and very shushy looking……