Night out...
Tonight was interesting, so we (me and my housemates) went out to the Fitzroy pub in Soho, we had a few pints and chatted for a while. Then come 11pm, we were thrown out of the Fitzroy and a few of us decided to go on to the 'Metro' club off Charing Cross road. So yeah, we stayed there until the wee hours and had a good time drinking and dancing and all that.
On the way home I took a detour to the cash machine because I wanted to get some food on the way home. Now, central London is a nightmare for getting money at an ATM late at night. Either there is a queue, or the machine isn't working, or whatever. Anyway, I was looking for a machine and a nice homeless woman directed me to a working machine. So after I got cash out, I decided to talk to her for a while. For the life of me I cannot remember her name, but she knew Liverpool well, and was a fairly articulate woman with a hell of a story to tell. It turned out she is pregnant and she did tell me a story as to why she ended up in London instead of Liverpool. She told me about her recent life on the streets, where she sleeps and all that.
Anyway, after an hour or two of chatting, I decided to help her into a shelter for the night, for which she insisted I choose a name for the daughter she was expecting.
Long story short, I felt good for helping a woman out for a night or two. I also proved to her that the world isn't such a cold, heartless place, and that someone would spare an hour of their time to talk, instead of walking past and ignoring her. If only that were true more of the time, then maybe the world wouldn't be so bad?
On the way home I took a detour to the cash machine because I wanted to get some food on the way home. Now, central London is a nightmare for getting money at an ATM late at night. Either there is a queue, or the machine isn't working, or whatever. Anyway, I was looking for a machine and a nice homeless woman directed me to a working machine. So after I got cash out, I decided to talk to her for a while. For the life of me I cannot remember her name, but she knew Liverpool well, and was a fairly articulate woman with a hell of a story to tell. It turned out she is pregnant and she did tell me a story as to why she ended up in London instead of Liverpool. She told me about her recent life on the streets, where she sleeps and all that.
Anyway, after an hour or two of chatting, I decided to help her into a shelter for the night, for which she insisted I choose a name for the daughter she was expecting.
Long story short, I felt good for helping a woman out for a night or two. I also proved to her that the world isn't such a cold, heartless place, and that someone would spare an hour of their time to talk, instead of walking past and ignoring her. If only that were true more of the time, then maybe the world wouldn't be so bad?
posted by Jon at 5:39 am
5 Comments:
What name did you suggest?
You were lucky it was not a scam of some sort to lure you to somewhere!
Blah blah dangerous, blah blah risky... that was a right swell thing to do, Jon. Really. Very inspiring.
If this pregnant woman had been a 65 year old man who was babbling nonesense, I don't think he would have been so quick to jump in and help somehow
What can I say, I was in a chatty mood.
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