Streatham Green is criminal. In the best and worst sense of the term. When I'm waiting for my pizza to finish baking at Tops up the road, I usually come here for ten or fifteen minutes to chill out and contemplate about life, random things. Each time I come to kick it here someone tries to sell me hash. I'm not into that, I'd rather just hang out in the square.
It's really interesting, being here, sitting in the background, seeing how people interact. One time I saw a person get punched directly, point blank in the face. I thought his jaw would fall out. It didn't, thankfully, because that would have been harrowing. The next time I came some drunk dude from Morocco kept on trying to carry on a slurred conversation with me in French. I don't speak French and I don't speak drunk when I'm sober, so that didn't go off too well. There's a Chariot's Spa right next to the square and I can't help but imagine a whole bunch of humid butt sex going on inside while these macho alpha male dissidents are punching each other in the faces on the Green. I wonder if the Square honchos sneak into the back door of Chariot's every now and again with their posse... read more