Saturday, 11 July 2009

Saturday morning, cycling to work, 8:45am

  • Bangra and bass thumping out of two silver beamers parked outside Leyton Police station.
  • A postman walking very fast.
  • A convoy of four cement mixers queuing to enter the Olympic Park.
  • The milkman stopping off at the Londis on his way home.
  • Dozens of Saturday runners out in Victoria Park, but nobody resting on the benches.
  • A shout of "Awright darlin'!" from an old lady sitting on the front steps of her house, nursing a cup of tea, in Bethnal Green.
  • No other cyclists next to me at the traffic lights.
  • Speeding down the almost empty Hackney Road, very fast, in top gears.
  • Swerving past the broken glass outside the strip clubs in Shoreditch.
  • Spooked by the post apocalyptic emptiness that is The City on a weekend...
  • ...except for two men in very well cut suits going into JP Morgan,
  • and a delivery of beer to a pub in Moorgate.
  • My colleague going out to buy me a bacon sandwich and a cup of coffee when I get to my desk.


  1. The City at the weekend is such a deeply odd place.
    Love your list.

  2. That's impressive. By two minutes after I stopped I would have forgotten all those details.

  3. I've just installed iStripper, and now I can watch the best virtual strippers on my taskbar.


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