Wednesday afternoon, westbound Piccadilly Line.
A stocky Irishman in his sixties, wearing a suit and carrying a suitcase, is making various phone calls.
"Yes, he was alright last night, well, not alright, you know...yes, I'm trying to arrange a funeral director...will see you in Donegal...no, no problem...peacefully, yes...call you back"
Next to him two American ladies sit, stereotypically chewing gum.
"I think I'm gonna make a cheesecake...what do you think?...pecan pie?...I don't really like the princess cake...no, think I'm making a cheesecake"
Good times and bad times on the tube...
Oh my goodness, after "yes, he was alright" I do not expect to hear "I'm trying to arrange a funeral director"!
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