So, there was this one time right, this january where I thought I'd enter a competition (run by the numbers label) to win tickets/accom/suchlike to the Bugged Out Weekender at butlins (bognor regis - which has always been my favourite butlins, fuck haven - never dat - and don't even start me on pontinsssss boiiiiii) and all you had to do was just send an email. was gonna be like "yes mans, easy win - take ma gurl meliz and grind against her an ting"
all i had to do was send. an. email.writing something wasn't even optional... not even necessary.
but, y'all know me.
i'm walking self-inflicted life frape.
anyways here it is:
Because 7 8 9 ! *baddum tsch*
..n- numbers.
...get it?
*tumbleweed*
ahem.
ANYWAYS, I thought I'd apply for those tickets and also have an awkward little one-way chat with you to boot!
Currently waiting for another episode of New Girl to download (seriously, why must Zooey Deschanel sing in every job she gets?) and so I THOUGHT...
Wouldn't this be a really nice opportunity to uproot some of my old memories from my prior trips to Butlins, Bognor Regis?
Yes, Jessica. Yes it would.
So, I present:
Yes, Bognor. Yes it would.
By Jessica Straker
I remember I was about 9 the first time we went there. On initial arrival, I was far from amused, since at this point in life I had an avid phobia of vomit and a baby sister with car-sickness. Plus, the place looked like a glorified circus tent owned by a circus that couldn't afford paint in a duo of primary colours.*
But have no fear, I was at Butlins, and Butlins doesn't dissappoint. I used the fuck out of the free fun fair. Hellz yeah I did. I even attempted to join some of those cheesy kids clubs** where I discovered a talent for orienteering. But the best bit was either the sub-tropical thingymajig waterworld or the adventure playground.
Even when we visited Bognor on our final trip there, in about 2007, I managed to make it into the adventure playground successfully (with or without my now 9 year old sister, myself aged 17) by taking my shoes off before approaching the entrance and running in past the stewards in a crouched Gollum position (to align my exceeded height with the maximum height limit totem).***
*It didn't pass my mind to reflect that, actually, yeah, circus tents are pretty damn huge and trying to buy paint for one would probably be extremely costly.
**I've always been a keen advocate against adults with parental control over me making me congregate with other children, so they can have adult time. This usually resulted in me sitting through big-people-time part of church (until I realised my grandparents live right next door, and if I pretend I'm a big girl and can walk to sunday school alone, I can steal the keys from the purse next to me - detour out of the building and watch nickelodeon.) The way I saw it was, if you wanted time where a kid wasn't around, don't have a kid.
***I got caught on the last day when, whilst frolicking through the tunnels, I crawled smack bang into an undercover steward, who escorted me out. I tried to re-enter atleast 2 more times. Unsuccessfully. I remember shouting "It's my last day anyways, I've been in there all fucking week you muffin!" as I walked back to the table where my mother was having some adult time with my step-dad.
Ok, well much to probably yours and my amusement, New Girl has downloaded, and I got a phonecall which through me out of the storytelling swing, and had a little reflection time on what I'm doing with my life and why I'm telling memories about Butlins in order to win some tickets.
I'll end with this though, I was the first person in line at the Numbers London Warehouse Party, I waited from about 8pm to enjoy your show (I was poor so I couldn't buy tickets in advance, stupid unpaid internships) and so metaphorically, I was your first. We made threshold stepping over love. I now sound mad.
But I can neutralise that by ending with one last memory of Butlins, which happened in 2010:
With my boyfriend of 3 years curled up scared-shitless in a closet (pay this bit of info no attention, it adds mystery) as my father paced the kitchen and stopped for a sudden and said: "It must have been really hard for your mother..." (he'd turned up unannounced at my student flat, to give me a tenner) "...you couldn't of gone on many holidays."
Yes, Dad, it was hard because you didn't pay child support! I thought but instead said:
"Yeah, I guess, we went to NY for my 5th birthday... but apart from that we didn't go anywhere... we started going Butlins when Mum married Paul though..."
MANS GOT PARRRRRRRRRRED
Many Thanks,
Jessica Straker
P.S. I didn't win. but meliz did get a runner up prize!
