Location: Kentish Town High Street
Time & Day: Wednesday - 12:39 pm
Mood: Thankful and aggrieved.
The thing is; £2 a day has become the budget at lunchtime, plus the considerate extras genteelly prepared at home; £2 is a £1.60, double berry muffin from Pret a Manger, and change, it’s a £1.70 portion of chips from Mehmet’s kebab house from time to time, and you’re a pescatarian, it’s fair to say the £2 takes its place as the little extra, when clearly there is little else.
The thing is the £2 budget is a stringent element that exists in your life, it informs you that your daily financial expenditure is a perquisite of your position in life, ultimately your disenfranchised arse is now standing still on cracking thin ice, and you can’t swim, and as such the £2 lets you know that you’re probably consistently broke, or about to go down that awakened road.
What it all means on this particular day is the £2 regimentally navigates the emotional consequence, of fiscally, holier than thou pockets, allowing an otherwise blind ignorance to a social awareness, to see vagrants; their growing numbers and more adept ways of begging with a clarity that shines a social light on this holy revered £2, notably in a divine driven country where the holy ghost sentiment, appears, or divinely not, void and null.
How close, or far away, is anybody to the plight of vagrancy and the aggrieved morale of £2 at lunchtime? It’s a thought.