Shut your mouth.

No, seriously, shut your damn mouth, you look retarded. That’s right, RETARDED.

Oh, London.

Friday Night Office Girls in Friday Night Office Uniforms; midnight tights running down the front of a leg. Nuggets and fries and half on the floor. Alcoholic grins, my new best friend, a slump, the sharp screen light, ‘are you OK? You left without saying goodbye!’, she’ll be fine, she’ll be fine, I’m getting off, she’ll be fine.

Oh, London.

With your Monday Morning People in their Monday Morning Gear; polished shoes, optimistic gym kit after the weekly conference call with the head office. Make up application from foundation to eyeliner flick. And emails, and emails and, ‘Yeah, I’m on my way in now’ and ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, I hope you feel better soon’ and ‘I’ll see you tonight, love you, we need milk’. How was your weekend, how was…