Mushy

Walking past Tooting Bec's finest non-corner corner shop. Should I go in for supplies? Or just keep on walking? I couldn't think of anything, so passed a white man with dreadlocks looking pale and carrying some sort of coat at arms length as if something uninvited had pissed on it. Then passed the 90 year old woman, who I've seen many times before in Tooting Bec, bent double, neck bowed. I smiled at her. Maybe she recognised me? But when I smiled all I got was a look that said 'I've heard it before' and kept walking.

I made it to the junction with Trinity Road. A bus went past, the driver had opened his window and was making the universal 'wanker' sign at a taxi driver infront. This, it turned out, was also the last bus to Streatham. But nevermind. I was feeling too fine to want a wanker-driver. So I set off walking the half an hour road home.

Out came the Ipod. Coming with it six small satchets of tomato sauce half-inched from a day out today and a part-ingredient of a new sauce created with the addition of either salad cream or mustard. Good with chips.

It's a dark path and I'm not one to brag about any comfort with gloom, so I started singing to forewarn any potential muggers that they could, in fact, be dealing with someone far stranger than them. I also had on a home made sticker-badge with four stars on it and the word 'Steve is cool' scribbled on it. Any mugger would know I was not to be messed with.

So I kept walking, with the chipperish mood that comes with these times. All that broke the calm was occasional looks behind me to check that my own shadow was just that. Otherwise, an uneventful trip. A good trip. A good day before a long one tomorrow.