The weather has been grey and wet these last few days but for some reason I’ve really liked it. It’s also perfect weather for magic mushrooms, but that’s another story. I was walking through town yesterday when I dropped into Borders to get a book. As usual I didn’t have anything in mind but in the end I got a nice hardback copy of Borges’ Ficciones for a tenner. Bargain.

When I was paying for it, I found myself saying, ‘And two tickets to the Brett Easton Ellis reading please’. It just kind of came out of nowhere- I had seen the posters but I hadn’t really processed them. Or rather, I must have- either that or I am currently possessed by the spirit of a Brett Easton Ellis fan. So I got 2 tickets for four quid each. Another bargain!

So in a couple of hours I am going to see the man himself read from his new book, Lunar Park (which I haven’t read). It’s been ages since I last went to see an author I really like. I missed Iain Banks a few months back, but I met him years ago when he signed Use Of Weapons for me and advised me not to read it. In fact, the last time I went to a reading I got chucked out. It was Douglas Coupland and he was reading from All Families Are Psychotic when it had just first come out…

I had been drinking and I decided to go and buy a Douglas Coupland book. So I went into Waterstones and I was looking around when the man said that I wasn’t allowed to go round into a downstairs unless I had a ticket. When I asked him what I needed a ticket for he told me it was to see Douglas Coupland reading from his new book. I completely freaked out. I had no idea that he even had a new book out or anything. It seemed like some sort of cosmic coincidence.

So I asked the man for a ticket and he said there weren’t any left. -Whaaat? None left, you’re kidding, you’ve got to be able to squeeze me in. Pleeease! But the man just looked slightly smug and, despite my best efforts, refused to bend the rules. So I gathered all of my powers of persuasion and convinced him to let me go downstairs and at least buy a copy of the book.

Off I went with strict instructions to go straight down, see the other man, tell him the man upstairs said it was okay, buy the book and come straight back up. When I got downstairs, there was a big screen set up and loads of chairs and lots of people all sitting in rows listening to D.C. reading away. And here was me, supposed to be grateful for even being allowed to buy the book. The downstairs man handed me my copy, and as I put my hand in my pocket to get my money I realised that I was in possession of a pen. That was it. That was enough to tip the balance. I thought to myself, what’s the point of being patronised by some pretentious jobsworth when one of my favourite authors is in the building, I’ve got a copy of his book and a pen. When I paid for my book I had already made up my mind as to my course of action.

I walked slightly over to the side, thinking to myself -Well it’s do or die, I’m going to have to be quick. And the downstairs man must have read my mind because he said -Excuse me, you’re not allowed to go around there, there’s a reading in progress. And just turned and looked at him and said -Oh really?

Then I just zipped around the side, and sort of charged up to Douglas Coupland who was sitting in a chair on a small stage, in the middle of a sentence, and just thrust the book and pen at him and said -I’m sorry to interrupt, could you sign this for me please? And he did! He looked a bit surprised at first but then he put down the book he was reading from and signed mine. I apologised again, thanked and saluted him and went away. Then I realised that he had forgotten to give me my pen back, which was sort of a lucky pen, so I went and got it back and went on my way.

By this time the upstairs man and the store manager were out in full force. The mananger was a big fat camp guy who said something like -Do you realise what you’ve just done? I said yes, of course I did. Then he flapped as he obviously tried to work out how to tell me off. So I said -Look, I’m sorry. You can ban me if you want, but what’s the point. If I knew I was going to get banned I would have done it anyway. Plus, it was between me and D.C. and he seemed to deal with it okay. (It wasn’t like I had chucked a cup of coffee over him).

The manager man said -Yes well you shouldn’t have done it okay. And I said -I know. I’m going home to read my book. Goodbye.

And that was that.

The point is, tonight I’ve got a ticket. Which is probably just as well because this is Brett Easton Ellis we’re dealing with here. He would probably gouge out my eyes and eat my ears off if I tried a stunt like that.