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I’d just got back to London from three months in Mexico where I’d had a wild ride and got utterly ripped with many people – particularly in Zipolite and San Cristobal.
An Australian guy called Simon I’d spent a couple of weeks with there had told me he was coming to London a few months hence; I promised to take him out on the town.
Simon showed up on a good night; my old friend Jamie was DJ-ing his techno thing at a pub on Brixton hill. We had a great night and got right torn up. Around 2am the pub closed for the night, but we were far from done, so decided to head down the hill into Brixton and go to the 414 – a club that was open until 6am.
Staggering down the hill, high as a kite on ecstasy, ranting away to the person who was with me (Simon was waiting for a taxi with the rest of my friends, but I was too high to hang around), and I noticed a girl I recognized from Hong Kong walking up the hill towards us. Her name was Sam and she’d worked briefly at the night club I’d worked at and I’d often see her out on the town in Hong Kong. We recognized each other and had a brief “can’t fucking believe this” kind of chat about mutual friends, before I had to move on – too high and gabbling too much to make any sense. The last time I’d seen Sam was over three years previously on the other side of the world.
As we arrived in Brixton proper, just outside The Fridge, a taxi pulled up and out stepped Guy. Guy had been in Zipolite – snorting rails and getting fucked up. I knew he was back in London but had no plans to meet up with him. By now I was higher than ever, and was quite bowled over by two coincidences striking within minutes of each other. I started ranting at Guy, telling him that Simon (who he also knew from Mexico) was just a few minutes behind, and he should join us at the 414. Guy, being Guy, didn’t want to hang around the streets of Brixton with me and my friend so visibly wrecked, so he fucked off.
When Simon arrived a few minutes later, I over-excitedly tried to explain to him what had just happened, but was too wasted to make much sense, so to the 414 we went to dance it off.
The next afternoon, I awoke in the usual post-night-out state, drank a large glass of water and went over the previous evening in my head. Bumping into two people I had last seen half a world away and never expected to see again, in the middle of the night walking around Brixton was a coincidence and a half.
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