Tuesday, 29 January 2008

He's in the money...


People you see on the way to work:

The City has got an even worse name recently what with global financial breakdown; hedge funds etc so you’d think the people getting of the train with me every morning would be ogres (I don’t work for a bank I must add). Sadly they look fairly normal if slightly better dressed than you average punter, lots of long black coats, the women in their trainers (ready to change at work for office shoes, this being the high water mark of equality to date, get away with not to be crippled but only to and from work). There are however still plenty of anoraks, fake fur trimmed parkas, shiny cheap suits and loud floral blouses.


Obviously the real nasty types are those swishing past in the flash cars you see in the square mile.


Having said all this it was good to see a real Plutocrat the other day, he was at the auto bank and looked exactly like monopoly man (sadly sans topper) he had full whiskers, long coat, sharp expensive looking English suit, a watch chain and to top it of a baby’s arm of a cigar. It was good to see somebody left that we can make a papier mache character of (to burn) once the revolution comes!


Other people I’ve seen.

An elderly grey haired black lady reading, old punk Henry Rollins auto biography “Get in the van”

Loads of machine gun armed Police outside the Old Bailey; nothing strange except one of them had a bike, something Bodie and Doyle wouldn’t stood for.

Still Queen of somebody's heart:
Outside the law courts (in the strand) one of the Diana trial “fans” lining up everyday with his face painted with Diana written across it. Now he’s decried as a nutter but if only the allegiances of all those taking part in trial where delineated so easily, you know “al fayed”, “queen”, “couldn’t give a stuff”...

Written on the body:
Oh and the large bloke in new glasses listening to British Sea Power loudly on the top deck, he was stuck on “6 down” and was absentmindedly drawing in blue biro on his chin because he thought his pen nib was retracted........ oh that was me.......

1 comment:

Planet Mondo said...

Mr Whiskers sounds like the sort of chap that would pop into the cigars, snuff and shaving brush shop near Bank Station, and perhaps the Gents only Barbers on Moorgate.