After a rather so-so party held in the Green Man in Euston on Saturday, a few of us travelled back from central London to Daggers for a little drink and a post-party chat about shite all. We found this specimen having a well-deserved post-party snoozette on the Central Line.
Sadly, he was removed by a (very pleasant, I have to say) member of the British Transport Police who asked him where he was going. “Walthamstow” he said, somewhat blearily. Despite the train pulling into Liverpool Street where he could have picked up an overground connection, he insisted on going back to Oxford Circus. The copper asked him if he had been with anyone earlier.
“Well”, he said, “my wife was here when I fell asleep”.
So…the question – what on earth happened to his wife? Gave us something to speculate on while we travelled the long and well-worn path to the burbs.
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