(no subject)

This morning, at Catford Bridge station:

yiskah and chiller wait for their delayed train, when a train pulls in to the platform opposite, covered in graffiti tags.

yiskah (squinting eyes): "What does that one say?"
chiller: "'Hoover'."
yiskah: "Oh, so that's an H?"
chiller: "Yes. I don't speak any languages, but I can read graffiti tags. 'Cos I'm street."
yiskah: "Yeah. And I'm...avenue."