London. A few weeks ago.
“Would you like to go to a disco with me? Or if not, how about the movies? Maybe we could see Toy Story 4.”
Both interesting options, with pros and cons, the major con being my wife and I had never met the English gentleman asking the question. He was a random bloke on the street who just came up to us.
After giving our profuse apologies, (though I was very tempted to see what old mate had in store for the “disco” option) we went on our way.
London is like that. You never know who you’re going to encounter as you wander. Like Bangkok. There was an elderly Thai couple that would busk on our street. He would play a MacGyvered string instrument and back his wife’s lead vocals. They had a prime spot out the front of a Starbucks and we would always give them some baht, which was always returned with a nod and a smile mid-song.
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I have encountered many characters in Sydney as well. Martin Place in the city’s CBD seems to be a magnet. One bloke would yell “GARN GET FUCKED!!” at everyone, yet no one in particular. Another would quote Shakespeare in an extremely resonant, thespian style… I would contribute the odd line if he forgot and I happened to remember.
Then there’s the bloke in Munich who prefers to live in a mobile phone shop doorway, a busker who plays the pan flute and stands out not only in his herbal, hippy outfits, but is the only burgher in the city who has a smile on his face.
To misquote the old TV show Naked City, there are eight million stories in the naked city. These have been just a few of them.
©Steve Williams 2020
