Where there's a Willesden there's a way

Saturday, February 19, 2005

People I've met lately

Mog took me out to our local. But she's made it clear I'm not to talk to anyone. It follows a bit of an incident last week.

I think everyone's quite familiar with my night with Seamus and Martin. And I was determined the next night night that I wouldn't talk to any of the angry mad drunks that often speak to you in Finbars. And I was doing so well too. Mog joined me and Smooth B for the last drink of the night.

"So how's your night been?"

"OK. Been very quiet". Smooth B's shocked lock threatened to give the game away, but I kept my cool. "Quiet. Yes."

We spoke for a while, until angry mad drunk behind me stood up with a cigarette in his mouth and shot me an expectant glance. I flicked my lighter, and turned back to Mog, who gave me a quizzical glance.

"I was just discussing work. I had a bit of a strange day."

Mog announced soon afterwards that she was heading home. I'd got away with it, and looked quite smug when I felt a mild blow to my shoulder. Angry mad drunk was raising his fists behind me, and looking quite sincere.

"Democracy!", he shouted. "Fucking Democracy!" I knew the game was up.

"Democracy" I reluctantly replied. Mog glowered.

You see, I'm not really supposed to proselytise to the drunks in Willesden. My 1984-inspired optimism about Willesden being ground zero for the revolution should have really run out by now. But that really hasn't stopped me.

It's strange; everyone else gets more right-wing as they get older...


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