He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
It Will Get Lighter
Style
IWGD
I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and
bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man
comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.