The Thousands

Every morning on the bus I’m surrounded by men and women dressed in expensive suits. I imagine they go on power meetings with business partners from Japan, are junior vice presidents at big firms in the city and don’t take shit from anyone. Sometimes they meet up with friends and colleagues for a meal and a glass of wine but can’t be seen at one of the establishments we frequent because it would do irreparable damage to their profiles. They need somewhere swanky with a restaurant, expensive art for their private collections, a rooftop bar (in case they decide to do a little partying after hours) and tunes by the likes of Fela Kuti because they like feeling worldly.

So where does the corporate world go to relax after a day of crunching numbers and finalising business deals? They go to Gallery on Waymouth where they can have a tandoori (or vegetarian) bruschetta on the first floor before heading up to the rooftop for moonlight ales and discussions on fluctuating stock prices with friends… and a little co-inhabiting with the fix gearing, Ian Curtis worshipping likes of us.