Alexander
I hate taking the underground. It reminds me exactly why I have a driver. It’s a strange phenomenon that when I’m dressed to be incognito I feel more noticeable than ever. The discomfort is palpable this evening. I feel observed. As though every pair of eyes on this carriage is boring into me. Staring.
They aren’t, of course.
A simple three-sixty makes it obvious I’m just a guy amongst a regular crowd going about their business. Just good old Ted Brown heading across town to do his bit for the community.
Maybe I can add paranoia to my list of s****l abstinence side effects. I didn’t pick some random homeless charity to absolve me of my self-loathing. The decision to volunteer at New Start, at the Brickwood branch, was an accidental choice, made for me one Friday evening after
