(that’s three of these kind of posts in a month – my friend meets real celebrities, but I find the cool ones)
I was on my usual 1am stroll around the perimeter of Regent’s Park this morning, and I noticed a strange sight on the road to the north of the park, around London Zoo: the Magical Camden Cheesemobile.
The Magical Camden Cheesemobile is, as the name may suggest, a vehicle roughly in the shape of a block of edam: pointed at the front, spreading out to a slightly curved back end, and with a flat side at the bottom running parallel to the ground. It was also a dull orange, giving it the colour of the red-and-yellow cheese, and had tiny little triangular headlights poking out from its bonnet like mangled bits of wax wrapped jutting out from the smoothness of the rest of the coating. It was also small, having just two seats, so it could have been mistaken for a large piece of cheese, rather than a small vehicle in the shape of some cheese.
It was also blaring some weird music; I was listening to Anti-Flag’s excellent new album American Spring while walking, so I couldn’t hear it too clearly, but it certainly didn’t have lyrics, or a recognisable melody, or seemed to include instruments known to mankind. Obviously, to suggest that this is the work of aliens would be too easy, and would ignore the fact that the Pilot of the Magical Camden Cheesemobile was expertly obeying the human laws of the road; no, this is a decidedly human creation, although one infused with a power that is typically not associated with humans: magic.
I don’t know who the Pilot is, or why they were driving the Magical Camden Cheesemobile. Indeed, I don’t know where it was going, where it had come from, or the nature of its fly tunes. Unlike a lot of other local celebrities I’ve found, this one has left me decidedly in the dark, but really this only adds to the mystery and wonder around this experience: I’ve seen the Pilot of the Magical Camden Cheesemobile, and will never know more than that.