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A night in Woolwich
Mar. 7th, 2018 11:44 amHe lives high up in a flat which from the outside looks as though it's made from green-blue perspex. It's a small space, but very cool, the views over the sunset river impressive even though Woolwich is far from pretty. But the whole thing suits his new life, which in turn suits him, even if he did turn up late and frazzled last night.
He's a teacher now, running on 12 hour days. He had two parents' evenings back to back and found that all his good pupils were lumped together on the first night, all the difficult kids - and often just as difficult parents - were last night.
'All this,' he said, 'And trying to work out a lesson plan for tomorrow in between. 'Hello?'' He mimicked talking to a parent while frantically tapping away on an invisible keyboard, 'Yes, what's that you say about little whoever? He's an angel at home? Well he's a manipulative little shit in the classroom, bye!'
Turns out he doesn't really say that, but maintains it's very hard not to. Having got home too late to cook for me, he took me out to Wetherspoons to eat, and by god, I detest that franchise. Still we had a good catch up. He promised to speak to the Buddhist Policeman ('Buddhist? No, you mean that other thing, bi-sexual!') and confirmed that the guy knows I'm married. 'Bad form' said my friend, 'Don't worry, I'll tell him to fuck off.'
Sad news about a mutual acquaintance; now an ageing homeless rent boy, he seems to flutter randomly in and out of drug issues, and feels responsible for introducing two other half-known people to CM no less. Now one is reputed to use it every day and the other appears to be undergoing some form of psychotic breakdown. Our night broke up early so he could get his lesson plan sorted and be up at 5 in the morning; though I know it's been hard for him, I'm so proud he decided to make his life work, for himself and others around him. The lights were shining all over the river, and the streets were full of people doing whatever. Life may be frustrating and tiring, but he's never looked so strong.
He's a teacher now, running on 12 hour days. He had two parents' evenings back to back and found that all his good pupils were lumped together on the first night, all the difficult kids - and often just as difficult parents - were last night.
'All this,' he said, 'And trying to work out a lesson plan for tomorrow in between. 'Hello?'' He mimicked talking to a parent while frantically tapping away on an invisible keyboard, 'Yes, what's that you say about little whoever? He's an angel at home? Well he's a manipulative little shit in the classroom, bye!'
Turns out he doesn't really say that, but maintains it's very hard not to. Having got home too late to cook for me, he took me out to Wetherspoons to eat, and by god, I detest that franchise. Still we had a good catch up. He promised to speak to the Buddhist Policeman ('Buddhist? No, you mean that other thing, bi-sexual!') and confirmed that the guy knows I'm married. 'Bad form' said my friend, 'Don't worry, I'll tell him to fuck off.'
Sad news about a mutual acquaintance; now an ageing homeless rent boy, he seems to flutter randomly in and out of drug issues, and feels responsible for introducing two other half-known people to CM no less. Now one is reputed to use it every day and the other appears to be undergoing some form of psychotic breakdown. Our night broke up early so he could get his lesson plan sorted and be up at 5 in the morning; though I know it's been hard for him, I'm so proud he decided to make his life work, for himself and others around him. The lights were shining all over the river, and the streets were full of people doing whatever. Life may be frustrating and tiring, but he's never looked so strong.
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