I had to replace my train pass ID card this week, which required a visit to one of those super-cruel photo booths. I’m in my mid -fifties now and have had a life, I’m invisible to the opposite sex, im ok with that, kinda. Then there’s the thwarted ambition, too many hot dinners, the one-time party animal who probably burnt the candle at both ends for too long. There is the financial ruin of a couple of thousand records and a ridiculous audio system despite (or maybe because of) being deaf in one ear. The burnt mince pies… I knew I would be wearing all that but what I wasnt expecting the machine to cough up was someone who at 6 in the morning, after several hours of interrogation, has just been arrested for the murder of his wife over a pitiful insurance pay-out. Fuck.
I’d just spent 15 minutes in the car with a huge leather-clad Texas highway patrolman who was also wearing a huge gun. That look is relief that I’d passed the test unscathed.
