Charlie and Peter.

Went into town using my pensioner's rail pass (no doubt soon to be scrapped by this caring government) to meet #1D and #1GS at her old place of work, the Caffe Nero she managed in Whitechapel, where she was meeting up with old customers and friends. Peter, though not in good health, is the kindest and funniest man you could hope to meet.
Afterwards we grabbed a quick and dirty lunch of fish and chips in St John's Centre (extra) before attempting a spot of shopping. The shops were getting busy by then, and we witnessed an altercation in Home and Bargain between a young female queue-jumper and a fierce elderly lady who took exception to this behaviour. As we left it seemed that a physical fight would ensue - my money was on the older woman, who had the stance of a prizefighter and the vocabulary of a docker. Season of Goodwill my arse.
I managed to get all the small bits I went in for (not presents - who needs those?) and after queueing for 45 minutes in John Lewis to pay for a pack of Sheaffer ink cartridges (yesterday  I found the gold fountain pen I thought was lost 20 years ago), I decided to call it a day, fighting my way through the jostling crowds, and stepping past the bodies of the many homeless and beggars in doorways back to the crowded station.
Totally wiped. Sensory overload.