More Festive Dylan Jones

Wednesday 25^th December – Christmas Day

Weight: 13.13 (Not quite what was planned) Calories: 2,600 (junk food was only food available) Fags: 5 (have no nails left) Alcohol Units: 0 (excellent) No. Of Boyfriends: 0 

7.00am  Merry Christmas!  Hurrah!  Am wide-awake and perfectly ready to venture out into the dark morning ready to help the needy.  Am amazed at the amount of people around at this time of the morning.  A gentleman comes to meet me at the Station where I am being picked up and I steel myself for a hearty Yuletide greeting.

‘Are you with Securicor?’

‘Ummm, no.’

‘Just what I fucking need this time of the morning!’  And off he goes.  Perhaps I am too romantic when it comes to Christmas.

7.15am  Rosie turns up in her car to give me a lift to the shelter.  Her car is full of people and I wish them all a Merry Christmas and fortunately they return my greeting with good cheer.  This is more like it.  It turns out that the gentleman is a reformed alcoholic on his fifth and Rosie is helping at the Women Only centre for the tenth year.  Claire, like myself, is a ‘shelter virgin’ and works for The Guardian.

7.45am  Bermondsey Christmas Shelter Project.  The converted, disused warehouse is heaving with merry volunteers most of whom seem to know each other.  Naturally my killer instincts are sharply on the lookout for three things.  Potential boyfriends, caffeine and the smoking area.  I must say there are some very tasty looking men around including Jason, our Team Leader, who looks very snazzy in his sweat shirt, jeans, Timberland boots and a Santa hat.  Everything seems very organised and warm as we are given our lecture on the ‘Rules’ in the guest’s area.  Jason takes off ten of us to the main hall where we are given our duties for the first two hours.  I am paired up with a talkative woman called Mary and we are seated in a corner of the large hall.  Around us bodies are beginning to stir.

8.40am  Am having very interesting conversation with a man named Doug who has been on the streets for four years.  It is very difficult because his Scottish accent is very thick and I have difficulty trying to decipher it.  His pal Chris, a chirpy Londoner has brought back a huge breakfast for the two of them and I begin to feel v. hungry.  Chris goes off to the on-site hairdressers to have his head shaved.

9.50am Mary and I are still sat chatting to Chris and Doug.  Sally, a Welsh alcoholic has joined us and against one of the main rules Mary starts to talk about politics, ‘Gee Double-Ya’ and the possibility of war.  Sally, Chris and Doug all seem to have well informed views on the matter and I pray that nobody asks me about it.  When Sally does ask my opinion I offer everybody a fag, which works well as a ploy for changing the subject.

11.40am  Much as I like our three new friends and am enjoying our conversation I am now out of fags.  I really ought to read the papers more.  We have been here for four hours now.  Surely there must be something else we can do.  Volunteers seem to be moving around all the time.

12.35pm  Mary finally asks a Team Leader whether or not we are supposed to be here.  Finally we are relieved.  Jason comes up to us and apologises.  Looking as dishy as he does I could forgive him anything.

‘I’m terribly sorry about that.  Sat there, the supervisor thought you were guests.’  Bastard!  We had been encouraged to talk people.  And do I really look like a homeless person?  I grab a coffee and head for the smoking area to blag a ciggy.

1.10pm  Lunch duty is a little better.  I am stood in the middle of the queue chatting to guests as they queue up for food.  Some of them are wearing much better clothes than me it is true, but many of them do still smell of wee.  It is fun though and I make lots of new friends.  I only wish I could help them a little more so I don’t say anything when my new mates Doug, Chris and Sally sneak back in for seconds.  I will try to bring in more fags tomorrow.

5.00pm  Home at last.  V. tired.  Only shop open was Chicken Cottage at the end of the road, which I suspect is run by Muslims.  I suddenly remember that I had recorded Eastenders and I settled down to watch it with mug of tea. 

5.05pm  Gahhhhhhhhhhhh.  Set the wrong channel and have now recorded Slim Steven’s Christmas Cracker with special guests Atomic Kitten and Darius.  Am too tired to cry.  Will go to bed now.