notes to the sports desk, from soho, london,

the Chinese super gourmet buffet king…

Emerging from the underground it’s Soho. On G___ Street, a small street leading off the main drag is an Italian basement bar. The main drag of soho is too seedy in a FHM magazine style way to worth the time of any real trooper, too many boys running around in satin tops and eyeliner living the dream as they brush close to the collosal bouncers at the doors of the clubs, so tootling off the main drag it's G___ Street, where behind an unmarked door down plain white stairs past no bouncers or door staff then down an unlit corridor is small almost desk like bar, serving only wine and spirits so its a whisky and water then swivelling on the balls of my feet to face the crowded tiny bar room dim lighting perfect for my already over stretched retina, full of the night, and there’s a dark young man sitting with an accordion crushing that little box till its croaking out classic french style jazz refrains and i'm thinking there's no end to the wonders in this city; the walls are plastered with photos of the popes and also film star gangsters, Al Capone etc. but also humphry bogart and others., the crowd here is friendly and noisy, its cheap red wine on most lips and out back where it is the smoking it’s a carnival…
Leaving this, i stumble on down the roads, not knowing where it is am going in particular, just following the feel of my feet down the street, loving the night around, loving the people flowing by like a stream that i dip my feet into, then out and on, then into again, its been a long one, perhaps 40 or 50 hours on the go, and i know i need some food, some temporary sanctuary before returning to the east end of the city this night,.. i look up and find myself in china town, and walk cheerfully into the Chinese super gourmet buffet king, which is near on a shack. The grease soaked in-door stalls are putrid, and there’s some grinning little Chinese women dressed in a filthy black frock, the yellowing stains all down her front shimmer in the reddish light that floods in the tall windows from the street outside, coating the dingy air inside with its disgusting aura. Perfect i think as i fish in my pocket to find a lot of coins and tobacco floating about, it feels heavy and as i pay a few pounds cash to the old duck i am grinning at the thought of some good heavy food in exchange, and then i am given a tin foil box and ushered towards the stand with the food, where i can fill this tin foil box with the swimming bits of meat in oil, rice and soggy looking sagging vegetables, and the stick damp air is full of the sickly sweet scents of cheap sauces, perfect i think again as i begin to stuff the box, crushing the rice into a cake at the bottom, jamming noodles, bits of unnameable meat and vegetables into it too, but as i proceed there is suddenly next to me this busty black woman, licking her lips, prodding at my trousers, asking what’s this, mmm, what’s this, what should i eat and she tugs at my belt,.. i turn at her with eyes still betraying the past 24 hrs of the forgetting and something snaps, i literally feel it go in my belly, and she’s still pulling at my belt, the hustling little whore, and i crack, what the fuck do you take me for, a fucking Chinese chef..? go suck grease somewhere else, suck what she shouts, pushing at me, causing the sauce to spill over the tin foil box onto my white/grey shirt cuffs, and now her friend who I hadn’t even seen till then is joining in too, just give her a fiver mate, just give her a fiver you tight cunt,.. tight cunt i said amazed and taken aback by the nasty yapping things at my shoulder..and the old Chinese woman is waddling over now, looking perplexed but firm in resolve, waddling like some demented crispy fried duck, and by now i’m just hearing white noise, the blood it feels is seeping from everywhere and bursting into my skull and still its just give her a fiver giver a fiver mate, i look down at her exposed cleavage, just a fiver mate, come on, and she’s still tugging at my god dam belt, and then glancing at the door, i hold onto my trilby as i launch the tin foil box at the two hussies, full of oily meat, vegetables and rice, and i see it in slow motion, as though savouring that meal as i ate it, seeing the noodles slip down her fat cleavage, the oil on her shoulder, the sauce on her friends face, and then in a second i am out the door and hurtling down the street through the crowds, until suddenly i stop, a taxi is passing and the white noise is gone, i wave it down, get in and say please, just out of china town, out of Soho, so go, go, and we pull of effortlessly. i look around to see the two woman and the squawking duck on the street, shouting obscenities, like police and cunt and bastard, and a few other people are loitering too just wondering perhaps, and i am smiling looking back forward again in the taxi, sinking into the soft black back seat, what happened back there mate, said that driver evidently half amused at my state, oh, i said, just a problem with the meat, under-cooked you know,.. and in a second i have Evaporated into another city second, into the thick time fog that closes like a curtain at the end of a show to faithfully hide the actors undressing backstage,..
the city has the feeling of a series of theatre stages, with the backstages and all, also the sudden explosion of potential because one can never know who's movie you've just stepped into, a dangerous city for late night stoned wanderings.,