Went shopping in Peckham yesterday with my mum. There’s nowhere like Peckham, believe me. You’ve got to keep your wits about you there. A few weeks ago Alvin went there by himself to visit his bank. I’d given him the basic location of his bank as I couldn’t go with him. When he got back to work he said that he’d asked various people for directions and they all just ignored him! I told my mum about it and she said that he was lucky that no one tried to mug him!

I’ve been to the Peckham Multiplex with my boss Linda a couple of times. We’ve got a routine of going to the Hope (a rough pub) for a drink before the movie. The last time we were there a bloke called Vince approached us, bought us some drinks then proceeded to tell us that he was a former boxer who had lost touch with his children. He confessed to being an alcoholic and basically drowning his sorrows in the booze. Having written a story about an unhappy ex-boxer, it felt like I was being visited by one of my protagonists.

The first time we went to the Peckham cinema our bags were searched (the first time I’ve been frisked at a cinema). Maybe he thought we were gun runners, drug whores, sexy secret agents with blades of steel, or perhaps he was just checking that we weren’t smuggling in contraband food from outside establishments… whatever. It was hilarious, and I was a little disappointed when it didn’t happen the next time…

I have to go to my cousin’s baby’s christening reception later today. I hate family gatherings, I always get aggro about my weight. I wish I wasn’t teetotal sometimes; it would be useful to have the option of drinking myself into oblivion.