Saturday, April 11, 2020

Lock down in Digbeth

I am writing this on the canal bank, where my hour's middle class exercise prescribed by the government has taken me.
I say middle class, because it is evident that general seeking of sex and particularly offering it for money have not been stopped by the lock down. Apparently if you're a rent boy you don't get furlough pay, and the two younger men in the local cruising zone have the characteristic mix of allure, threat and desperation which characterises their profession. The older men are looking for it but not thinking of paying for it, or else they would have got it by now.
Elsewhere in Digbeth the clubbing set are the most sober they have been for years and sunbathing at times of day they previously didn't know existed. I start my new job on Tuesday and am nearly as ready as I am going to be. I just need to trim my claws so they don't clatter on the floor.

2 comments:

  1. Please tell me there's a park or something just out of shot? I can't make out a hint of green in that photo (although, I so spy two gulls and what appears to be a leg crossing the road...).

    P.S. Will you use bolt cutters or a chainsaw for your claws?

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    Replies
    1. Of course there's green It's in the traffic lights. Isn't it good to know that everywhere else nature is recovering but remains dead in Birmingham!
      There is green on the canal bank.
      I pop into the dogs home (just round the corner) and get them to do them.

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