And for a few moments, Kilburn went mad. I came home last night and, not wanting to go through the debacle of cooking myself some dinner, popped into a traditionally English Fish ‘n Chip shop (you know the sort – they’re generally run by Turks). Already at the counter was a hefty looking bruiser waiting to place his order. The shop’s owner nodded to me as he came out from the back of the shop (I’m a regular) and the bruiser exploded.
To the owner: “What the fuck are you doing? I’ve been standing here for two fucking minutes and you haven’t fucking served me yet. And then you start to fucking serve this cunt!”
And then to me: “You cunt! You fucking walk in this fucking shithole and expect to get fucking served before me! Cunt! I ought to fucking kill you! Cunt!”
Then he turns back to the counter and cheerfully places his order. Feeling ever so slightly shaken, I wait for my food to arrive and then leave, only to be confronted by a man running down the centre of Kilburn High Road, eyes agog and mouth agape, screaming at the top of his voice. He’s about thirty yards away, but moving pretty quickly in my direction. I’m ready to move out the way, when he runs at full tilt into the side of a crossing black taxi and tumbles to the floor. He immediately leaps to his feet and, seemingly none the worse for wear, picks up where he left off (the screaming thing and the running thing).
My bus arrives. Ahead of me in the queue to pay the driver is an extremely tall woman, six feet four at the least. With her is a young boy, four or five I guess, and she’s doing her very best to annoy the passengers behind her by paying her fare in 2 pence pieces, 55 of them. Finally she completes the transaction and moves to the back of the bus. The boy has gone upstairs and is screaming is head off. This lasts for three stops, until it’s time for me to get off. Just as I’m stepping down from the bus, there’s a commotion. I turn round just in time to see the boy (having stopped the shrieking and having made his way downstairs) be punched full in the face by the tall woman. The doors close and the bus trundles off. I’m left at the bustop wondering when they added angel dust to our water supply.