Lonely Crowds


I was pushing the Sainsbury’s trolley up Royal College Street towards Kentish Town. Me own stuff.
            I was glad to be out of Arlington Road. Them flats was not for me. Aye, I should of done it some time ago. Pompous receptionists. Miss the company though. I wonder how Spliffy is doing? He was a goodun for sorting you out with zoot. Must pop in to see him; and Polawski. Now he was a mate. Knock on his door and he let you in his gaff any time. He was the only one that would share his White Lightning. I remember the one time the old bill were after him for swiping a card. This posh well to do bloke had his pin with it, so he got some dough and came back with 2 bottles of Strong Bow. They nicked him the following day for kiting. I thought he was gonna get potted, but some local Mag took pity on him and gave him 12 months suspended.
            I’ll pop into Kent’s CafĂ© and buy us a rosie. Watch the box and the people walking by. Two for one like.
            ‘Cuppa me love,’ says I.
            ‘Take a seat and I’ll bring it over to ya,’ she replies to me.
            Very posh I think, but no toast this time. I do like a bit o’ posh me. Must find me glad rags. Might try to impress her and get some free toast. Got to be careful today. The local boys might pop in for some fat boy’s. The do it in full uniform nowadays. And who can blame them? The bangers ‘ere are out of this world.
            It is empty today. An ol’ couple sitting at the other end with their frothy coffees and fancy cakes. I likes the corner. There is some geezer on the box jabbering on about nothing. Might give us a bubble with all his antiques, innit?
           
            It’s getting cold now. I wish I was back in Arlington. The hostel wasn’t too bad after all. And had some heating like. I got to find somewhere to curl up for the night. Social said they will try to get us a bed, but it’s kinda difficult after I smacked the receptionist. Well, he deserved it all right. Calling us a dirty, innit?
            I’m in a city of millions, and there is no one about. We are all lost souls passing each other, like enemy soldiers. Pretend we doesn’t exist or we’d kill each other.
            Sitting in my school, never thought I’d be surrounded by so much loneliness. Ready to go to college and study accountancy till me parents died in a car crash. Could of be driving one of them posh German cars, wearing a whistle, innit.
            As I walk past the 24 hour store the radio is playing and it makes me laugh – or cry?
            ‘…so how can you tell me, you’re lonely? […] let me take by the hand and walk through the streets of London…


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