fella called Pat just walked up to me in a park and started telling me about how
he was a jockey.
in 77 he lost 7.6 stone and raced the County Christo (?)
he has photographs
he told me he was related to the Taoiseach
"sleeping in the park? sure we're all prime ministers"
he asked me if i'd rather a cider or a lager and he'd get it and come back and
meet me.
i told him i'll have to go here, Pat and he asked me my name and i said chee. 5
minutes later he said "who are you" and i said "chee" and he said "aye i've
heard of you"
chee rabbits
I'm sitting under the only remaining shelter on Peckham High Street waiting for
the rain to pass but the tree is starting to fail and I might have to run for it