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| Talk,
Heather Lennox,
19 January 1999 | |
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Upon waking up to a crisp London morning; I crack open a fresh can of super strength lager, merrily humming my way through the washing up.
Then, still in bathrobe and slippers I head for the nearest street bench and wave off London's loony workforce using a variety of hand gestures be it thumbs up, flipping 'em the finger or the slow wave and wink combo. Some mornings, I like to stand on the bench shaking my fists, shouting at the odd passer by.
Sighing whimsically, I head back indoors to dress in a favourite pair of 1980's trainers and old jeans...today could be my big day..and settle down with a some fresh orange MD 20/20 (mad dog) for breakfast. I then watch Richard & Judy, who chatter away to me for the rest of the day...in my mind.
This finished I am ready to tackle my career interests near Camden Town tube: flogging used travel passes for £2, little lighters that keep breaking or cut price cigarettes from a sports bag. This used to be quite lucrative until a grinning man with a thick bushy unibrow seemed to corner the market. Bastard. I like to vary my exercise regime by occasionally legging it out of Curry's electrical shop with a top of the range laminator.
For lunch I may pop into Sainsbury's and wish everyone I meet there either 'the very best of luck to you' or screech out an inaudible curse, depending on my winsome girlish mood; until I am escorted off the premises for trying to flog a clock radio concealed in a paper Gregg's bakery bag.
Later, with a bit of luck I may have my trainers and/or jeans bought from my personage by a local vintage clothing dealing who stands to make a whopping £800 from sale of said goods to the Japanese. Fancy that!
Feeling flush with my £20 from the deal. I can splash out on a whole bottle of vodka to spice up the day and really start to paint the town red... and maybe score some speed..
I head to for Soho on the tube. With my rosary I stand over every passenger in seat number 3 on the last car, mumbling a prayer and making a sign of the cross above them. I arrive in Soho just in time to sort out a brawl outside the amongst my cronies with a few shrugs and hand waves. We soon all settle down in the main drag with our lagers to watch the bustling day go by...hoping Tony Blair won't march us to the nearest cash point...demanding £100 for heroin..
This is my lovely London..!
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