Alright to Come Over?

I was listening in to someone's mobile phone conversation on the train home before. As you do. Sometimes I like to play, "Spot the dude going to score some choof" (I don't have the heart to play it with the people going to play more hardcore reindeer games :(

I thought the guy tonight might have been a contender, but the way he said, "I'll be at Sunshine Station in a couple of minutes; I'll give you 10 minutes to meet me there," had a tad too much disrespect in it for it to be anything other than, like, his brother being forced to come pick him up.

The girl standing in the opposite doorway was obviously speaking to her dad. And men with daughters, I know it warms your heart cockles but really, do not let your daughters wheedle and cajole and manipulative you. Do not give in when they say, "Pleeeeeeese, Daddy," at least not while they're on their mobile phones in public places, because one day someone will slap them and it will be your fault for letting them be such horrid little manipulators when they're, like, 25. Oooh, the way she was laying it on thick and sneery at the same time. Smackworthy :)

I imagine that the choof dealers on the other end of those "Alright to come over?" calls must scratch themselves a bit more in their paranoia in these days of public mobile calls. Back in the eighties they'd be sitting there, the end of the day looming hard as they've dealt deals from their couches since lunchtime, sharing cones with a few customers and now watching Wheel of Fortune and keeping an eye out for the cops. The always-ringing phone at least would have Gazza calling from his own lounge room. But now, you've got countless Gazzas calling from countless trains saying, "Duhhhhh, alright to come over?" when really, they may as well say, "Spot me a quarter and I'll pay you next week, is that alright?"

You know, if I was to end up working from home, I'd have to do a few trips with the notebook every now and then. The variety of life that flows through a carriage on any given day is fascinating, I must say :)

Ahhh, all those people looking for God at the bottom of a bong. We just all wanna feel the love, don't we? I have a soft spot, I suppose, for people getting caught up in drugs. It's a short-cut way to dull the pain and feel the transcendence and it takes away with the other hand twice as much as it'll give you but I guess my heart goes out to those people because I did my reasonably fair share of partaking of the old chooferoonie. But oh, it's the wide road, though. Wish God didn't have such a bad rap in the hearts of men, makes it twice as hard to let him find us, and twice as easy to take the shortcuts.