Friday evening
Just in time for Pride, the spirits of the not dead Beyoncé and Britney Spears arrived in London.
I had a rendezvous on Oxford Street, outside Bond Street tube station. Due to not specifying which of the Oxford Street entrances to Bond Street underground we should meet at, I had a good amount of people watching time until the inevitable text exchange….I’m here, where are you?
On the people watching front I’m easily satisfied, quite happy with the unremarkable, although if called upon I expect I could manage to supply remarks. In this case however, I was treated to premium people watching. The usual Friday night late shoppers were distracted and delighted, they shifted in and out of audience mode, clapping, cheering, shouting, filming and then back to passing through. Traffic came to a halt, bus horns sounded, it was unclear if they were signalling, get out of the way, or, go for it.
The cause of all of this excitement was a tall, thin, man, with a powerful sound system, lip syncing and twerking to Beyoncé’s, All the single ladies, in front of a 94 bus. Once back on the pavement he did a bit of Britney, Baby hit me one more time, before moving on.
It was pure joy.
He can be proud.
fat tart 