More going to work when everyone's going to bed.
And the route from my house to the Tube station takes me past the same pair of shoes I passed this morning.
Do you think it's like some sort of weird secret code?
And why has no-one touched them or at least moved them an inch? Maybe this is the spot where the people who eat mice and travel in space ships finally land on earth.
I decide to become a fan of Connie Booth who played Polly in Fawlty Towers. This is because I see in the news that she has become somewhat of a recluse.
I am fascinated by famous people who actively shun the spotlight in spite of what everyone wants.
It's like unrequited love for the masses.
Even though Connie was in a show that many consider to be the greatest sitcom ever made, she has refused to talk about it for the last 30 years. And still refuses to discuss why she refuses to talk about it.
You know I love her and it's partly because of it but Kate Bush is another one. She refuses to speak about her music, will not tour and is hardly ever seen in public.
Stanley Kubrick too - another hero. Spoke so rarely in public that it's difficult to find anything post 1981.
Peter Hinwood who played Rocky in the Rocky Horror film. Literally disappeared after the film shot to prominence and is apparently an antiques dealer in London somewhere. No-one knows. That's cool.
No pitching up at the opening of an envelope to get your picture in the paper. No media-whoring. No selling out.
Here's an early picture of Peter Hinwood that I found.
Where is he now? Nobody knows but I am sure that he doesn't still look like that. Cor.
Listening to hard house music to try and make the minute hand on the clock tick faster. I think fast music just makes it move slower.
If you find an e-mail in your personal inbox that begins "look whose in the background at hustlerball in this picture", don't click on the link if you're in the office.
I'm just saying.
The sun is blazing through the office window.
See that picture? Now imagine... looking at that sun while sitting on a beach in the Balearics.
These are the friends you're surrounded with (thanks GlobalNix)...
And it's 6am because you're up from the night before. The song is either DJ Tiesto's Traffic or Tidal Flow by Third Member.
In the sand next to you is a bottle of water but in your hand you have a beautiful ice cold San Miguel. Bugger the fact that it's 6am.
Ohmygod, are you feeling it?
Fucking hell, Shepherd's Bush on a Thursday morning is a lousy substitute...
Meanwhile. While you were getting ready for work.
Bond Street tube station.
Disgruntled and disillusioned Londoners throw themselves on the escalator of doom as they ascend to change for Les Lignes de Centrale (the Central Line).
Five ways to spot a South African in London...
1/ The weather must be cold because he's wearing shorts. This is how South African men like to prove their masculinity.
In near-Arctic conditions you may possibly spot the South African waiting for his train in a Speedo.
2/ Instead of reading the Metro he's reading "The South African", a free newspaper for South Africans who like to catch up on news that's a week old.
4/ Point number 2 kinda gives the game away really.
5/ So that's the end of "5 easy ways to spot a South African"
Whatever. Good night. Or good morning if you know what I mean.