Karma is Bagpipe shaped.
'I had a chat with that singer down the road, I'm going to wait a bit before starting so I don't drown her out.'
Bagpipe players are considerate like this, they know how loud they are and are used to getting moved on.
The first I heard from the singer was when I'd just gotten into my swing for the second time outside Harrods. The first time I got into my swing, my d string broke. I was a bit pissed off because I didn't have a spare, so I went down to Kensington Chimes and coughed up £12.95 for a D'adderio Helicore. I was pissed off because the d string shouldn't break often and that one had only been on a month.
So I'm back outside Harrods and I've had a pint and a chat with a pervert. I joined him when he spotted me, can in hand, as I was walking past the cafe. Latte, steel chair and table painted red.
'So, do you think a nurse would do that for me?'
'This one wouldn't.'
A PCSO wafted past, paused, pointed at my can, wagged his finger and wafted on.
No sign of the 'mildly anti beer on the street cop' and I've made my excuses and I'm into my swing and my fiddles started to get louder because I've started to get used to things (Took me about 45 mins with the new string.). So it's time for a fag, but not before playing another one. I played another one, took a breath, put me fiddle down and before I reached in my pocket I heard a sound behind me.
It was an amplified opera singer with a backing track. On any occasion, in isolation, a pleasant thing. Not a pleasant thing when pitched at close range against my playing though. She was too close and she knew it. Her volume edged up as I was rolling my cigarette. So much so infact that I rolled it, lit it, took one puff, laid it delicately on the edge of my case, pcked up me fiddle and played my bottom off. It can't have been pleasant, but it was loud and rhythmic.
Dueling buskers. I was losing, but only because she was amplified. Then the bagpipe player turned up. We'd had a chat earlier and he said he would come back at eight o'clock, which is when I told him I was planning on finishing. I'd just about made enough by half seven, but decided to keep going.
'Fuck it.' I said, 'She wasn't worried about drowning me out. Drown her out.'
And that's precisely what he did.