The day before yesterday, on the tube, there was this horrible, shuddersome thing on that strap thingy you are supposed to hold on to in the ceiling: a used condom. And then I read in one of the Woo’s posts that she’d found a turd on a tube seat. Aren’t these terrible? How did the city ever get so bad?
Ho well, I try not to think of such things, as I’d much rather be cheerful and optimistic. Also, I’m trying to keep a pleasant, about-to-smile look on my face at all times, which is much harder than you’d think. Though a lot more people have been asking me for directions and chatting to me in shops lately, so it must be having an effect.
I walked casually past Michael’s house lately, wondering whether he’d been affected by the banking collapses and general financial meltdown, as it seems middle-ranking very rich people are being wiped out, having their homes repossessed etc, while the uber-rich are happier than ever, buying up jet-loads of champagne, ordering fresh Vivienne Westwood diamond waistcoats for their dogs and so on. I don’t know which he is: rich or uber-rich. His house looked unoccupied, like it had been empty for weeks and weeks. And I found myself wondering if I’d even find him attractive – or want to have anything to do with him – if he was poor. Which was a very bad thought.
