3am, 13th September I left young Phoebe Holman's residence in East London to hoppenzie on the bus to Liverpool Street. This seemed like a good idea until I got to the bus stop. Firstly; it was 3.15am, and the bus didn't arrive for at least another 20minutes. So standing there in my newly purchased Paul Smith clobber, laptop in my bag, and a boarding school education behind me, I concluded that it was probably a good idea to get in a cab. Minutes before this realisation, as I ascertained which bus stop I was to use, I got warned as I passed by a gentleman on the opposite side of the road, who's girlfriend(?) was sat on the floor crying, to "keep your eyes to yourself, and walk on bruv". Luckily his bus stop was not
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