Outside the window of the 253 bus a girl is skipping to school and it seems a good way to travel as she's beating the bus. At the stop waiting for the 31 a school girl is sitting with a unicycle. Impossible you say? Nothing is impossible when you work for the circus. The 253 and 31 are my new bus routes to work, although not for much longer. Sometimes I skip the 31, head to the health food shop and buy a load of licorice, which i chew my way through as I walk through Regent's Park and up over Primrose Hill to work. The other day a man sat on a bench on Primrose Hill playing war tunes on a trumpet. It sounded good in the morning air and I looked over to him as I walked past to give him a nodding approving look but he glared back at me as if to say: "Never seen a man practice trumpet in the park before?" To which the answer would be no. But I have spare licorice if you'd like?
Have you noticed how when people reach a certain age they boast about how they never go to clubs anymore. "Clubs, pah, I can't remember the last time I went to a nightclub." To counteract this we decided to go to a club last Saturday. What we were looking for was a London club that most mirrors Liquidation in Liverpool, so we went to How does it feel to be loved? which alternates between central London and Brixton. This week it was central, in the Phoenix just off Oxford street. The dance floor was packed, we started with a large space in the middle and ended up with a small corner by the speakers. I'd recommend nightclubs to the older patron. It's dark in there, nobody is aware you've been hobbling round the planet for 40 odd years until the lights go on. We leave before the lights go on.
On the bus home a huge guy is snoring at the back corner of the bus and nobody will sit next to him. Three rows in front of us a guy is sick three times, his mate sits laughing beside him. People either move seats or open the windows to try and dispel the stench. I'd forgotten how much fun the night bus was.
