early morning

visit to the docks

so I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and dashed out of the door this morning just before dawn so that I could catch the sunrise from one of my favourite haunts. Saw this guy pull up and spend five minutes trying to park his BMW, eventually he got out and stopped and stared at me. I stared back. I was thinking, rather uncharitably, 'what the f**k are you looking at? you can't even park your car and you've got a stoopid ten-gallon cowboy hat on your head, this ain't Texas, buddy!'. I didn't know him and he didn't speak, so I walked on. I got around to the side where the shops are and I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection. I stopped and stared. I was wearing a rabbit-fur Russian hat with the ear flaps flying freely on top of wild-woman-of-Borneo hair, a grubby hoody under a wax jacket and one of the legs of my cords was tucked into my boots. Not a good fashion statement at all, who the hell was I to slag him off?