A drunken couple and a beggar with a twinkle in the eye

After Prime Minister Theresa May had made her resignation speech, from a media perspective -it was, indeed, big news. Massive. On the street, though, just another Friday night.

Most Londoners, out and about, some relishing end of the week, a few (very few) - waiting to break- the- fast. According to the 2011 census, of all 2.6 million Muslims in the UK, 21 percent reside in London, i.e. the majority. During Ramadan nights, you notice Muslims, having had their “Iftar” wandering around chatting, taking it easy, to and from- mosques.

And since we are in May- June, by eight, nine in the evening, it is still light.

It would be dark in East Africa. Iftar is breakfast in Arabic and that is where the Swahili word “Futari” originates. In English iftar is also Footar. Which leads us to the actual background of the English word Break- of – fast...?

So then...

We have the holy month affecting few in London.

And meanwhile...

...in other parts of the city, e.g. pubs and clubs- time to unwind; fun time. It is Friday night, remember. And as the sunset rolls on...in public buses and trains, the late edition of the daily Evening Standard blasts us with news of Theresa May. She resigned.

It is over. She was tearful, etc. Tomorrow, Saturday the Daily Mail will slash its front page with a cruel close up of Ms May’s face, in a suppressed weep, real weep. Yes. And the headline chuckles: A Crying Shame.

In her page two analysis, columnist, Jan Moir (wife of Michael Gove, who is also in the Conservative Government) gives a, rounded sensitive view.

“Parallels will be drawn with Margaret Thatcher, the only other Prime Minister to shed a tear in public after being forced to resign...”

The Conservative ladies; Tory ladies.

The only female Prime Ministers.

Well, this country has offered interesting female leaders. Someone writes a week later, privately that, the only decent leader in the UK is the Queen. Interesting observation...

But back to Friday the 24th May 2019. An historic Friday night of the woman in red, the resigning PM...

We are in a train and so far, most folks, just mind their business. Each to their thoughts, fingers, bags, pouches, phones and right now, loving and kissing. A couple sitting opposite us has the most theatrical body language.

Wait a minute. It is normal to see couples and pairs kissing in trains and public in London. As normal as, what did we say last week? Rain and Sunshine. Our particular pair is drunk...

The man has a tight T shirt with loose jeans on. His female partner similar blue jeans and a light green tight blouse. A really, really strong whiff of alcohol flies from them.

Yes sir, yes mum.

Our Friday night.

They are messing about pushing each other and saying things...that make the lady giggle alot. Yes he is funny and they are having a jolly moment.

To our right side – a loud clap is heard followed by an announcement. Not of the vehicle’s speakers via driver but an agitated passenger. This is always unnerving, as at the back of our minds, we are wary and worried if it those thugs keen to do mass killings, i.e. terrorism.

“Ladies and gentlemen, sorry to bother you. I hate doing this. But I have been homeless for a year now and I am looking for any help...”

He recites the typical London public transport speech that destitute and beggars make. Quickly, few passengers scuttle through purses and wallets searching for cash.

And not excluding our dear drunk, sozzled couple.

Leaning gingerly on his dear spouse, he pushes his hand into his trousers.

She watches as he scoops a couple of coins, out. Now the homeless chap half grins. There is a glint in his eye. Appreciative.

Drunk man nods, hands him a couple of coins.

As the beggar departs, his partner asks: “How much did you give him?”

“I -don’t- know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He belches. Looks into her eyes. Real long, intimate long stare. She looks away. He still stares, a drunk stare, unblinking. Then quickly laughs.

“I am a bloody full...”

She giggles.

“Wha-?”

“You heard me. Look. “

He opens his palm.

“I couldn’t see what i was giving. I gave him the small change and kept the big ones.

“Call him back...”

She giggles. “He is gone, you fool.”

They laugh and pull each other closer.

Yes it is Friday night.