I am the Trotsky of the sandwich box

Better Read Red than being an insufferable no-mark

I have my lunch weather permitting in the shady environs of Lincoln Inn’s field it’s very lovely with looming 60-100ft plane trees and either gothic or classical lawyer’s office to look at while you munch.

Today most of the benches were full and I approached a partially occupied seat and gave the guy on the other end the universal “is this seat free” sign language (he was on the phone) getting no reply I sat down.
He was a proper stuff shirted pinstriped red pockmark faced business type, having a loud business call (he was spouting clichéd business gunk). Anyway as I sat down he angrily turns his back to me and says loudly enough for me to hear “look I may have to go some communist with a Guardian has sat down next to me” and get’s up and leaves.

Taken somewhat a back, the best I could do by way of a riposte was to smile sweetly and give him a clenched fist salute, the prick. It was one the most curious bits of abuse I ever had.

I am rather happy that reading the Guardian is still seen as so subversive, seeing as apart from not having a near religious reverence for the RUC and worse sports coverage your can’t put a thin flake of muesli between the Guardian and the Telegraph most days, particularly now the Observer seems to be aimed at the horribly wealthy.

Obviously in a family space like this I won’t mention what I wished on him, hopefully the credit crunch is doing half my job for me already. Anyway I off to a meeting of my insurgent cell we’re planning to overthrow the EU taking inspiration from Nigel Slater’s latest recipe for butter nut squash risotto and buoyed up by the inspirational and inflammatory words of Jess Morley Carter.....workers of the world unite you have nothing loose but your Kitten heels......

If that capitalist running dog with the fat arse thinks I’m Trot he’d better not listen to .....
Robert Wyatt and “Stalin wasn’t stallin’ ”