I check the small print, but as a self-employed sex worker it appears Mitzi won’t be expecting a Government hand-out anytime soon. This gives rise to thoughts of my own precarious financial situation. With my meager retireage at the mercy of a stock market deflating faster than Uncle Willy’s balloon, my usual fall-back – the evening meeting at Haydock Park – a non-runner and no unsuspecting friends I can touch up for a few quid owing to the social distancing regulations, things are looking pretty bleak…
Having been excused Credit Cards a few years ago, my options are limited… On the other hand, the recent crack-down on fun means I won’t have to settle numerous bar tabs for a while – so it’s not all bad.
Mitzi wants to know what is for breakfast… This is apparently a meal before lunch that I usually sleep through, so I’m not sure. There is some suspicious looking left-over take-away in the fridge but it needs chemical analysis to confirm it is fit for human consumption…
Her inquiry does open the wider question of what we are going to eat henceforth, as my usual pie and a pint from a local hostilery is now extinct. In desperation and taking the last of my folding, Mitzi sets off for the town supermarket. She soon returns with several back copies of Woman’s Realm, 40 Rothmans and a couple of moth eaten cabbages. I suspect this is not going to keep the Wolf from the door….
Bulk and The Devil 