London personified (I feel)
I was working just off Picadilly Circus, and one day on my lunch break saw a beautiful, beautiful girl coming out of one of the side streets.

Dressed to the nines in expensive gear, it was pretty clear she was a model and just leaving her agency. I reckon she was probably wearing over £500- - maybe even £1000- - worth of kit, though I know nothing of labels, fashion or prices. She seemed to glimmer of a world of Happy People, Winning Smiles and Contentment, where everything is new and functions properly, and where everyone is terribly witty and fun.

As I watched, a sordid, horrid, stinking piece of the human flotsam and jetsam of everyday London - of the type that we all walk past each day trying to ignore - staggered up to the girl, growling about spare change, and the look of fear, but ultimately disgust in her eyes will never leave me.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 3 Jul 2009, 13:22, Reply)