Warm weather bringing out first sighting of summer commuting horror on Tube – blokes in sandals. Put right off latte two sugars by sight of bloke’s hideous lanky toes opposite.
Travel on District line to Wimbledon, between an elderly black man in a pork pie hat holding an umbrella and a red rose, and a baby in pram strumming a Spanish guitar. Feel certain this deeply symbolic. Maybe am going to fall in love with Spanish guitarist. Must start frequenting tapas bars.