I don’t think anyone expects me to be nice, which is a surprise all its own when I am. I have an angry resting face. I’m really only approached by pretty drunk women who haven’t heard the word no a lot in their lives. They want to touch the beard. I yell at people blocking the way.

“Excuse me!” I shout, and they scurry like beetles.

You see, I’m very polite.

P.S. Lovely piece Natasha.