Читать книгу William Walker’s First Year of Marriage: A Horror Story - Matt Rudd - Страница 75

It’s the start of the week and I still appear to be no closer to ever escaping Finsbury Park. I manage to get a seat on the Tube. A fellow citizen of my ‘hood, a gangsta rappa with headphones the size of grapefruit, manages to get the seat next to me. The music is so loud I can hear the vocals: ‘I don’t know what you heard about me; But a bitch can’t get a dollar out of me; No Cadillac, no perms, you can’t see; That I’m a motherfucking P-I-M-P.’ I ask him to turn it down. He says: ‘Interrupt my train of thought again, bitch, and I’ll cut you.’ Then the Tube stops mid-tunnel: someone in another train in another tunnel has pulled the emergency cord. I have to spend the next thirty-five stationary minutes sitting with a man who just threatened to knife me.