Islington
Out of context: Reply #7
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- rafalski0
4AM on a Saturday some three weeks ago, southside London centre. We're driving up North in a shabby citroen. Traffic lights, on our right a black 600SEL from the nineties stops. There is only driver inside, a big guy in a leather jacket. He opens his left side window and asks us for directions to Islington, with strong Russian accent.
My driver friend tells him to keep going North, then look at signs or ask people. The guy thanks. "Nice old mercedes" - continues my friend. "Thank you" the guy replies with smile. "Mafia!" says my friend smiling. The guy chuckles.. but it doesn't sound like he really likes the joke. It is a cold chuckle.
Suddenly, green light enters the silence to make us feel more comfortable. But the bad joke vibe stays with us for a few more minutes.