Sunday, 5 May 2013
'Don't worry, I got the chainsaw but I forgot my bloody coat!' he said and laughed.
'Typical' I said and smiled. 'So, where is it?'
'Oh, it's in here' he answered handing me a large bag. The bag was light as a feather, I knew even before I opened it that was the wrong bag. Inside was ladies clothes, underwear and a small bag of makeup. 'You fool!' I sighed in despair, 'Didn't you realise how little it weighed!?'
He looked dumbstruck.
Back in the station and we established where the train was headed, obtained a number for the rail company and handed in the wrong bag; whose owner was sitting on 14.25 to Edinburgh none the wiser that her bag been taken by our piano player.
I phoned the rail company and reported the chainsaw fiasco to them -
'Hi, I left my bag on the train!'
'Ok, describe the bag'
'It's blue and heavy.'
'Ok, and what's inside it?'
'An orange chainsaw and a can of petrol.'
- They told me to phone Edinburgh station lost property instead, so I did. Edinburgh lost property told me to phone back at 11pm when the train had arrived, by which time they'd shut the office till Monday morning!
There was nothing to be done, we played the gig at The Big Issue regardless, without the chainsaw, so crucial to our sound! I jest, but it did put us on the wrong footing somewhat, we pulled through and played well enough though, we even managed to find amusement in the fiasco in the pub afterwards.
The bass player drew three signs saying 'THE' 'ODD' 'FOLK' and the four of us did a silly photo shoot in a tunnel on the way home, with the piano player the only one who didn't have a sign. It worked quite well. He was the odd one - the one who owns the heaviest keyboard known to man and leaves chainsaws on the train!
On monday morning I phoned the lost property in Edinburgh -
'Hello I left my bag on the train on friday, I'm hoping it's arrived with you?'
'Ok, and what kind of bag, sir?'
'Well it's big and blue and...'
'And what, sir?'
'And it's got an orange chainsaw inside it!'
'Ah, you're the chainsaw boy!' he laughed in a strong Scots accents.
'Um, yes, so you have the bag?' i asked.
'No, it's been handed to the police, sir, it's illegal to travel with live fuel!'
I phoned the police -
'Hello, I believe you have my chainsaw?' I asked tentatively.
'Ah chainsaw boy!' he roared with laughter, 'you've made my weekend! The curious case of the orange chainsaw!'
In the end I had the chainsaw couriered back down to Bristol, the police never charged me, just laughed a lot down the telephone.
We played another gig the following weekend at The Looking Glass, a new music venue in Bristol; the piano player arrived on time and didn't leave anything on the train this time. He was very proud of himself.
He left his shoes behind when he departed though!