Concrete block...

The new home for Hull Truck has well and truly made its mark on the skyline now. I've been promised a site tour soon which will be pretty useful given that I'm writing some new pieces with the intention of them being performed in what is, right now, just a hefty slab of concrete in my mind. A quick glance at a contract reminded me that I need to get my finger out soon. Unfortunately, this nonsense that I'm involved with during the day to ensure that I can at least make some token inroads into the outstanding bills is getting in the way of any creative thinking right now.

To town for some lunch. We were a party of six and the order at this simple tavern selling simple Sunday fayre seemed very simple to deliver to simple old me. Somehow, they (the tavern) managed to mess things up. The waitress seemed to pin the blame on me for incorrectly ordering food that I didn't want, despite me holding in my hands a piece of paper (ie an itemised bill) that suggested that I knew exactly what I was doing. I started to tell her where she'd gone wrong when she walked off, citing "this food I'm holding in my hands is getting cold while you make up your mind what you want. I'll take it back to the kitchen" as an excuse for her about turn. Which stopped me in my tracks before I could let a tirade of Larry Davidisms spring forth. Shame. It would have been fun. We got our revenge by stealing lots of sachets of sauce.

Listening: Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles; The Kooks - Konk.

Dressed to impress...

Last night we went to the recently revamped Raj Pavilion (a Tandoori restaurant), which, having more than trebled in size, is now one of Hull's largest eateries and is proving very popular. Having not thought it through, my attire for the evening perfectly matched that of the staff, which was, frankly, rather disturbing and a tad embarrassing - I kept feeling as if I should be taking orders or something. And despite my coincidental efforts to blend in with my surroundings they didn't even offer me a staff discount. Food was plentiful and lovely. Mmmmm.

Watching: World Professional Darts Championship / Louis Theroux: Behind Bars. Reading: Tony Hannan - Being Eddie Waring.

Stalk me...

If you'd been following us this morning, you'd have found yourself in Luciano's...


...a rather nice Italian cafe-restaurant which, despite the garish bright orange exterior, has a rather soothing ambience inside and serves up great food and a natty line in desserts (coffee and cake 9-noon and 3-5pm just £3.50). Also, telly trivia fans will be keen to know, the waiter from South Shields who may or may not serve you used to be in Byker Grove. Maybe I should be on commission? Check out those hefty light bulbs, though, they definitely ain't burning energy efficient there.

Later, with the rain belting down, I passed some time here...


...Hepworth's Arcade, where stands the legendary Dinsdale's carnival novelty store, the place to go for your fake doggy doos and itching powder. My mother was telling me the other day that my grandfather used to work upstairs in Hepworth's Arcade, when it used to house Hull's telephone exchange. They used to stand somewhere close to where I took this snap and he'd wave at them from the balcony. Who were the Hepworth's? Well, this old ad that is still on the wall really doesn't explain it all..


Yes, they were the Great XL tailors and clothiers. But does the XL mean they made clothes for the larger gentleman or are they roman numerals? Which would mean there were 40 of them, which would indeed be great. Back then it wasn't the Hepworth's Arcade - it was plain old Silver Street Arcade then. I like to think that Hepworth's 40 tailors and clothiers mobhandedly forced all the other shops in the arcade to agree to the name change. I wonder if they also bullied my grandad?

When I got home I had a nice chat with Aileen Jones, a medal winning lifeboat helmsman from Porthcawl, and some of what she told me will add a bit of flavour to the play, I should think.