Gin & Time

I’m sitting in The Swan, the pub attached to Shakespeare’s Globe, waiting for a friend to arrive. I can tell I’ve been broken by our nation’s capital when the Frenchman behind the bar tells me my gin and tonic is eight pounds and I think to myself “Huh. That’s not too bad.” There are actors…

Accordion Man

I stared down at him from the first floor window while I ate my crisps. Salt and vinegar I think, though that’s not important. Accordion Man was playing some romantic old standard that made me feel instantly plucked up from my setting. Romantic. Wistful. Exotic. Not Essex. He’s been there for years. For as long…

Watching Casablanca

Sometimes, when a big man tells you to do something, you just do it. Sometimes it’s something you don’t want to do, like showing the contents of your bag to a bouncer in a rubbish music joint when you’ve tried to beat the capitalist system and stick it to the man by taking your own…