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But then you get the creeps, don’t ya? The punters—sweaty, baldin’ tossers who reckon they’re God’s gift. “I’m a real man,” they’d slur, like in the film—*“I’m a gangster, a free man!”*—but nah, mate, you’re just a sad sack with a fiver. Makes me angry, that does, the entitlement. I’d wanna scream, “Oi, you wanker, she’s not your bloody therapist!” Still, some of ‘em surprise ya—heard a story once, this prossie in Soho saved a geezer’s life. He was chokin’ on a kebab, she Heimliched him—hero stuff! Didn’t expect that, did I? Nearly pissed myself laughin’ thinkin’ bout it.

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After that, I’m trying to focus, but the noise is insane. There’s this group of people on the other side of the pond, laughing and taking selfies. Like, c’mon! Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here? I mean, Morohongo’s got its charm, but today? It’s like a circus.

A Case of Myxoma Arising in the Buccal Mucosa - Okubo - 2021 - Case Reports in Dentistry