A Young Man

The boy now eats a sandwich (as I write), followed by a bowl of cereal. It's 6PM so dinner in one hour. We have stopped fighting it : As Sonnet says, "bottomless pit." I am reminded of his enormous loving Jamaican day-care taker, Eitan age 1, who frequently commented on Eitan's appetite ("That boy loves his food").

Anthony stops by to watch the Australian-Wales rugby match and catch us up on things: he is moving from Islington to Clapton in Hackney, East London, which is now the next uber cool location as the East End  pushes towards the Olympics Park. Once known for it's 'Murder Mile' - stretch of tarmac that was once known as Britain's deadliest by murder as recently as 2002. Now the gays have moved in, followed by the hipsters, artists and techies serviced by trendy bars, bakeries and cafes. It is still urban gritty, I understand, but filled with young people trying to comfort themselves of their anxieties or revel in their youth.

Anthony's business, Barmetrix, provides operational and cost management software for bars. He has 40 clients, all of whom need to be serviced. Over a pint, of course. 

Me: "Eitan how does it feel to be 15?"

Eitan: "Good."

Me: "Anything else?"

Eitan: "It feels a lot older."

Me:

Eitan: "Than 14."