A MAN with tickets for this year’s Glastonbury has been brought to his knees by an incredible, overwhelming wave of relief.
Tom Booker of Manchester glanced at the calendar, realised he should have been setting off for the festival tomorrow and was staggered by the sheer joy of not having to.
He said: “If not for the pandemic, I’d be in a tent tomorrow night. And every night until next Tuesday. Surrounded by dickheads and caked in my own filth. And now I’m not.
“Who was on this year? Kendrick Lamar, I’d have had to watch that. And Taylor Swift, even though by Sunday night all I’d really want to be doing is sitting in my car, imagining I’m in traffic, leaving.
“God, the drugs I’d have to take. The surprising art-house cabaret I’d have had to stumble upon. The pleasure I’d have had to feign. All gone.
“Instead I get to stay at home, sit in the sun in my own garden, urinate in my own clean porcelain toilet, pour myself cold drinks from my own fridge and not have to watch sunrise from anywhere, least of all the healing field.
“Watch it on the telly? Bollocks I will.”