Hanway Street

Not long ago, as I was botanising and sociologising (I know it is not a verb but I like it!) on the asphalt, I got side tracked to Hanway Street. Number 22 was playing a good tune of old rock & roll, the door was open, and I could not resist but go in. I had a brief encounter with the owner, Tim, and even bought a second-hand book on rock journalism. Nick is a character, and I decided to go back, take a picture, and have a chat with him. I found some time this afternoon, and this is the result. He wasn't reluctant about the pic or the chat, which was the funniest I've had in a long time. Tim has been selling records in the shop since 1979, and it is my idea of Ali Baba's sesame... To my question "Why did you open a music record shop?" he answered: "Bad luck..wrong time,wrong place...prison sentence" (giggles) -"what do you mean?" - "I live my life in a box, but could be worst like Mc Donald" ( more giggles) -" You must have seen so many people in 30 years" -" I don't recognise people" -"What you did not recognise me today?" - "How could I forget you?" (very sarcastic giggles)