Soho alleys

For almost one year now I have been tramping the streets of Soho to and from my offices as part of my daily commute, about as far removed from my original walk out of Pimlico tube station as possible.

I’ve seen celebrities, arty, media idiots dressed like a hurricane in a clothing store, all manner of drunkenness and was once even stunned to be offered “live show darlin?” by a woman behind a glass counter in a Soho alley as I walked back to the office before midday.

This week, three walks to the tube have led to three incidents that sum up this mad collection of side streets in central London. Firstly, I saw three men leaving a side door on a street, where they were immediately approached by two men in plain clothes, who then flashed police ID at them and proceeded to ask them what items they had on their persons. I lingered for as long as I could but didn’t get to find out what happened. It was a surreal moment, though, given how much of just this sort of thing I have been watching on DVD as I finally watch The Wire (see below).

Then, yesterday, two drunk guys were shouting at each other over the cost of some bar / strip joint they’d been in, clearly one was not as prepared as the other to pay “this f**king money” any more.

Today, I saw an elderly gentlemen leave a bar on one side of a road and saunter, a touch wobbly, over toward The Great Windmill Club where he proceed to casually study the menu/information board thing outside, as busy meeja types strolled by, somewhat amused by this.

Great stuff.