So I'm coming back from bloody Manchester or something and I get a cab with this chap who starts telling me Baron's Court (my beautiful 'hood) is full of tramps... I'm like, 'well - no, it's not... But there is a smashing smile there called Eroll who sells the big Issue but uh, it's not buddy'... and (he was just leading to a story really) he goes, 'No it is, I should know, I used to be one'...So I'm reeled in and fell hook, line and story sunk later... You see, this guy slept rough on the streets for a year but then his friend died in his arms one night. Realising he was going to be next on whomevers God awful shit list, driver dude mugs a guy for his wallet, walks in to the local swimming baths, showers in his clothes in their changing rooms and walks round London until his clothes are clean. Once that's done, dry and dusted, he (cleaner, smarter, less smudgy) walks in to a store and spends the £75 he robbed on new clothes (and hopefuly a bite to eat)... He then walks in to the Savoy (love it) and gets a job in the kitchen. For a year he lives under the stairs albeit having three amazing meals cooked for him by the Savoy a day, and (can't entirely remember this bit and he said he's do me for plagarism if I tried to write his story) he got his Knowledge to drive a Hackney Cab along the way.
One year and a license later, he rocks in to the office of the guy he robbed. The guy recognises him (seriously, what would you do at that point?) but the fattened up thief just threw £75 on the table, said sorry and 'let me tell you a story about why I had to rob you'....
They meet for a drink every now and then...
It's genius.
I love it.
£7 in a tip well spent.
But hey - don't sue me bully boy.
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