Diary – 31 May 2008

I co-own a rather jolly children’s shop on Ebury Street and my stock has recently expanded to include a Romanian tramp. I discovered him sleeping on my doorstep after returning to collect a laptop charger I’d left behind. As it was physically impossible to get into the shop without first crushing him, I found myself in the frankly ludicrous position of waking him up and asking his permission to enter my own premises. After this initial nocturnal ‘lady and the tramp’ encounter our paths have crossed several times. Some mornings when I arrive at work I discover he’s succumbed to a lie-in. I feel strangely awkward waking him up, so tend to go to Starbucks for a coffee. A double espresso for me and a latte-to-go for him. Sometimes, however, a hot drink won’t do. He mimes that he wants feeding and I obligingly trot off and return with a grilled Marmite and cheese sandwich.