Still Got The Magic
It seems the circus is in town and, walking home, I took a ‘shortcut’ and ended up around the back of it.
Halfway along, this guy … looking for bathroom/toilet facilities for his little girl … stopped me and asked me if I was with the circus.
HA ha ha ha ha!
Oh, yeah, I’ve still got the magic, alright … disreputable/dodgy/rough-looking as fuck, me — quick, shut the windows and hide the silver … there’s a pikey about ; )
That’s nearly as good as the time I had to go to the Civic Centre to lodge a complaint with the Council and … knowing I was going to have to wait a loooooooong time to see someone … picked up a broadsheet to read whilst I did so.
As I had taken the day off work to do so, I wasn’t suited and booted but dressed in my “I don’t have to pretend today so I’m not dressing up” clothes.
And one of the security guards wandered over to ‘see if I was okay, if there was anything I needed, why I was there …’ and make sure I wasn’t homeless and in off the street.
Which is when I knew I’d got the look down just right.
HA HA HA HA HA!
Some days it’s good to be me — the vindication that my efforts have not been in vain is wonderful. 
 You don’t think looking like I’m with the circus just happened of it’s own accord, do you? It’s taken me years to get the right wardrobe together so that I can literally reach out, grab the first things that come to hand off the floor or nearby chair/wherever, throw them on without a moment’s thought
… and look like a stylist spent all morning perfecting my outfit.
My T-shirts are designer, custom made for me … my trousers cut about/up and re-styled just for me … my shades from Paris, my fleece from Amsterdam, my pullover from Los Angeles, my shorts from London … I’m a catwalk walking down the street .
 It’s just that it’s Greebo the cat doing that walk, is all ;D