It was my first time in the English-speaking world; true to form, once I overcame my language-barrier-exacerbated social phobia and forced myself to go there at all, the rest was rather easy.

As usual, going home I was as elated as though I had achieved something substantial. There was a nagging thought that perhaps I should have tipped the barber but even that disappeared when I had a proper look in the mirror at night. Give me a tracksuit and a younger face and I could almost pass for a typical schemie…



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