A photographic interlude to the 39 days of mayhem known as Christmas. I was thinking fondly about the madhouse that propped themselves up across the road from my old apartment in London, SW5.
Just another day.
That Tuesday, Barry wouldn’t shut up. Barry was the name I gave him, the loud man in the white t-shirt, he was there every day. Sean looked away, grinding his hands together, but invariably in support of Barry. Carol was done, she’d had enough of Barry tormenting her for borrowing his precious gree lighter, today she wasn’t having it, she’d ignored him long enough and began to boil over…
The wrath bubbled to the surface as Carol reached out for one of the crew’s metal crutches, she turned to Barry and screamed that he should shut his ***** mouth before she **** smashed it off, she seemed serious… Eddy, in the midst of all this, seemed to be mostly oblivious to what was about to happen, Sean though, he knew, he tried to calm the situation by shouting “stop it you scrag” Carol wasn’t having it…
The metal crutch came down on Barry’s warm tin of White Star, Sean and Barry tried to protect themselves, but Carol was on fire, a raging midget of metal crutch wielding fury… Eddy finally realised something was up and held his hand up asking for peace (and another ciggy)
“PEACE, BE STILL” was what I’m sure Sean and Barry were yelling, it was muffled and garbled all at the same time. Carol half screamed half spat ‘No’ and kept swinging her cold metal friend in their general direction. Eddy resigned to the fact that what was happening was happening slipped back into his semi-oblivious state…
Carol needed more, she needed to feel skin on skin! The skin of her fist on the skin of Barry’s chubby face, her hook connecting, her small frame not allowing for much of a wind up, it glanced off of Barry’s face and only just missed Eddy’s sleepy mug… Sean tried to use the force, it didn’t work.
Pulling her tiny clenched fist back, Carol was keen to get off one more shot, Sean didn’t think it was a good idea but had decided to just let her get on with it, and Barry knew what was coming. He closed his eyes and shuddered as her grubby hand connected with his squishy nose. Crack. She was done.
Back in her seat, Carol instantly regrets her decision to give Barry the good news, her cigarette remains cold and unlit, her metal weapons now safely in Eddy’s control. All this while, Max, dirty Max I named him, sat watching the fiasco play out, pausing only once to issue a slap to the bottom of a passer by.
Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it…
SW5 and beyond.