Another day and another gig. This time it would be the twelfth time that I would witness my favourite band, Bloc Party, perform live.
I woke up after the previous nights events tired and it took until my afternoon shower that I felt awake. I walked down to the train station to meet my friend who was coming along with me.
After a short train journey we had made it to Earls Court via a brief stop at a quaint pub where we brought ridiculously named ales such as 'Hair of the Dog'.
We soon made it inside the venue which was massive. It was easily the largest venue that I had seen Bloc Party perform in.
The support bands couldn't have been different. The first, Old Men, were awful. The second, The Joy Formidable, were fantastic.
Eventually Bloc Party came on yet I was sadly stuck near the middle of the arena. The sort of area at a gig that is populated by people who wish to be further towards the carnage and those who just want to stand and nod along.
After another impressive performance, I left content but it took a long time to get out of the venue. Trying to get 19,000 people out of one building is a difficult task at the best of times and it reached a stage that required the police to control the number of people coming in and out of the tube station.
We decided to try and walk to another station and we passed a lady who asked us whether we spoke English. We replied honestly and said yes.
She then proceeded to tell us that she had run out of gas. I didn't quite understand her story and frankly stopped listening until I heard her mention the name of a town situated near Kingston. Why would she travel all this way to get gas?
My friend stated we had no money and she quickly left.
I didn't quite understand what had gone on until my friend explained she was probably a drug-addict.
I knew that gas story was slightly weird.
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