It’s a catwalk this
place. You come here just to be
seen here. I mean, look at that knob with the feathers and the top hat; he’s
wearing bloody high heels. And them gals that walk around with them rollers in their
hair and rags tied around their head, looking like my nan cleaning the house. Blimey, if I see another handlebar moustache I’m gonna throw
some bricks! There was a bloke who owned a shop here called Spirit, he’s Rasta
I think, sold west Indian foods. He got run out the area by these property
developers. I mean, his name was fucking spirit, that’s a metaphor if there was
ever one! That pub on the corner, I used to drink there with a bunch of cockneys
and some Jamaican mates. Sometimes Irish blokes would walk in and wanna fight
ya, we’d knuckle out and they’d wanna buy you a drink afterwards. Nowadays that
pub is selling crab burgers and lobster soup to poofs with handlebar
moustaches! Funny how this place felt more like home when there was a chance
I’d get robbed in the street. Living in Tottenham now... someone might rob me there instead.
NOTE: The guy with the top hat and high heels turned out to be the bassist from The Killers.
NOTE: The guy with the top hat and high heels turned out to be the bassist from The Killers.
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