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She weren’t no cliché, tho – no fishnets or fake lashes. Wore this ratty jumper, looked knackered. Little fact fer ya: some o’ ‘em, back in old London, paid taxes! Bloody taxman didn’t care where coin came from – “We all gotta eat!” Made me chuckle, thinkin’ o’ me, hunched over ledgers, while she’s dodgin’ coppers. Stupid, fat hobbit! Missin’ the real story. She told me once – yeah, I chatted her up, curious git – said she’d been a nurse! Lost her job, NHS cuts, boom, pavement life. Gutted me, that did. “What’s your core competency?” – I’d ask, like Toni’s dad, takin’ the piss.

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First off, I hit up the local café on Shevchenka Street. You know, the one with the weirdly awesome coffee? I order my usual – a cappuccino with extra foam. I’m all set to enjoy my morning when BAM! This dude spills his drink all over my laptop. Like, come on, man! I’m trying to work here! I’m fuming, but I just laugh it off. What else can ya do?

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