I was walking back from the Passage to Victoria station the other day and I came upon, well, this.
They gave me an orange from a basket. I could choose, actually. Apple or orange. They were promoting a website, a site to change your life.
The tall one was funny. He asked, after he heard my accent, if he might carry me home. He’d love a green card. He was Australian and looked, I think exactly like some movie actor whose name I can’t think of. I am sure to think of it in a minute. I asked if I could take his picture, and that’s when his friend wandered over and posed.
It was odd. Everyday on the street, underpaid foreigners thrust things in my hands: “free” phone cards, flyers for night clubs, plastic bags of free mouth wash, tampon and yogurt samples, or vouchers for free coffees at the new Pret or Eat or Mange or Plough or Munch or Chew or Masticate or whatever the name of the latest chain of quickie food stops is. Usually the pushers wanted me to buy something or try something. This was the first time a knight in shining– albeit plastic– armour offered me the chance to change my life.
Too bad I lost the card. At least I have the photo to remember him by.
