|analytical Q||May-Aug 2000||Sept-Dec 2000||Contact||Discussion|
FULL MOON IN CLOUDS
Friday the 13th. Another colleague departed. Twelve years of service. We drank to his future at a dot com. We celebrated at a stand-up comedy show in South London.
Afterwards, I danced to the familiar tunes of the sixties, seventies, eighties, and nineties. The last song by OASIS brought me back to the present. It was 1:30 am. Time to go home.
One completely bald man came up to me and asked, "Do you like men with hair?"
The bouncers had kept a wistful watch over me. They ensured I got a taxi home. The minicab driver looked like a pirate - with a black cloth wrapped around his long hair. His unshaven smile and courteous manner begged me to trust him.
Having cycled in this part of town (for that matter, most of London), I was no tourist. Instead, I looked up and observed the full moon, moving between and behind the white clouds. It seemed to follow us as we followed the River Thames. It was another bouncer watching over me.