Monday 17 November 2003

No. 4 - Finsbury Park to Angel

I was on the back seat of the lower deck.

First there was heroin couple. They sat opposite me. Two people so thin both their faces were basically skin stretched over skulls. Not only did their cheek bones stick out but you could see their jaw bones moving as they spoke. They were nervy sorts, fidgety, who watched your hands as you used the mobile or hunted in your bag for something but would never catch your eye. He had a broken nose like a boxer. She had track marks on the back of her hand.

Then there was a middle aged woman in 70s plastic glasses - HUGE frames, silver combat pants and silver baseball boots. She sat on the other end of the bench seat and perched her feet on the edge of the seat in front of her. When her legs were bent up like that her trousers fell at an angle that made it look like she had one of those artificial limbs - not the sort that look like a plastic leg but the metal ones that are like a pole with a foot on the end.

And finally there was Jenny-from-the-block-alike. Highlighted hair. Pancake nude makeup (lots of makeup but with the intention of looking like you aren't wearing any). Broad bum squeezed into skin tight jeans.

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