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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever