I waited in my empty flat this morning, for long, cold hours, waiting for the man from Dulux to deliver my paint. He came about 11. He had only three of the right things. He left them for me to take up, and promised to return.
And return he did. With many right things. I was frozen by this time, and popped into Sid’s Cafe for a coffee. It was quiet. No job club today. Mostly old ladies with baked potatoes. I had a black coffee. Alone on a small table. Scanning the walls of community notices.
I walked into town, to choose and order some carpets. An expensive action. This completed, I headed to the Boston Tea Party for more coffee, and soup. Here it is busy. Students. Workers. Old ladies with dogs. A different kind of community. In Sid’s, you see disabled people. In Bostons, the stairs limit accessibility. There’s another difference of accessibility. Price. Most could afford the £1 I paid for my coffee at Sid’s. Many would balk at paying £4.50 for soup. Money gives you choices. Not to eat where the poor and excluded eat. To sip your coffee in a make believe world where everyone has a mac, an iPhone, or an iPad. Where no one is poor, and no one hungry.