A couple of years ago, I was standing on my balcony in Dalston having a beer. I overlook alot of the terrible, terrible clubs and bars we have 'round here. You know, a car stalls at the lights and someone with a truckload of no-name french lager pulls up, puts on a compilation album and calls it a bar, probably called "Car Superstore, or some crap." Then a bus of rejected applicants from Central Saint Martins rocks up and barfs on it, while pretending to be gay so they can get in.
Anyhoo, on this particular night, it's early and I see three people - a blonde girl and two guys, badly dressed in winterwear, although it's June, and they look out of place. Kind of posh for round here. Like shoplifters at Westfield. And they look guilty, like they are up to something. Next thing I know, one of them runs up to my front door (they can't see me) and puts something on it. A couple hours later, I am out of beer, so I go downstairs and have a look, and it is a sticker for a band called NDubz.
They still owe me 20 quid for the sticker removal stuff I had to buy. And they're raised in St. John's Wood, coming 'round here graffing up my ghetto..