Dedication..

The hour is late. And I’m just getting ready to go on a 5 mile journey for a midnight snack. Dedication.

A journey back in the day which would have ended with me checking for holes in the condoms, before discarding them after in a bin on the street after saying my goodbyes within her residence, Is now dedicated to night covered missions for a generous portion doner meat and chips.

How my priorities have changed. Feeding my stomach has become more important than send out that “You shouldn’t be awake and alone at this hour..” text message. There is no one in my phone book that would see comfort in such a sex hinted text.

Between us, I actually tried to settle down with the last woman I sent such a text too, on the realisation that the emotional water bill on having sex on tap was costly. To her on the other hand, it was all she knew and budgeted accordingly. It was like a mind fuck for months.

Good sex. Deleted number.

Where was I.. Oh yeah, food.

I’m just glad London has the option to fine dine at such a late hour. I might even bring my own fork, now that would make for an interesting stop and search, trying to explain to the officers on the twilight hour beat that it’s not blood, but ketchup, then to convince them with the permanence, lick the excess clean off in front them. But within the Manor House area I’m sure such actions would make a crackhead see me as a father figure. I’d be the topic of conversation for the officers that night, if they decided to let me slide on. By that time my belly will be full, and thoughts will be far away from how my random and slightly weird acts have added to their bonding session.

But with that being said I think I’ll leave the fork at home..