New Town

What have they done to the old home place, why did they tear it down?

And why did I leave the plough in the field and look for a job in the town

J.D. Crowe, 'Old Home Place'

My mate the Canadian placed her in the 'girl next door' genre. I suppose he was referring to how she drew attention in response to an easy warmth she projected rather than an eye catching strikingness. True. The thing that caught my imagination was the wake of a just passed knowing grin, that told me of an analytical wit at work. This is how i chose to see her anyways. It could have just been an uneasy smile. The sort one displays when slightly uncomfortable and nervous. But as de rigour, I ran with the more romantically appealing snap judgement.

There were a couple of hindrances to my confirming or otherwise of my first impression.  The Canadian and I were in the middle of our own activity and conversation, whilst she dined on an early dinner with her two companions - one male and one female. It was hard to tell if any of them were in a commited agreement to any or each of the others.

Value

On the world financial market, the US Dollar is the barometer for ascribing value. It's the constant against which one can define the value of the gold, coal or Yen you have stashed under the bed. The exchange rate of USD to GBP dictated the amount of Pounds the aggressively eager, Pakistani man pushed under the thin slit in the thick perspex window at the Bureaux de Change, just outside of Leicester Square. This was an ever so simple transaction to understand. I expected how much i was to receive due to the rate displayed on the A-Frame board out on the sidewalk and i surmised the numerical total by reading the numbers printed large on the banknotes. What is a little harder to understand is what is the actual 'real' value of 1 Pound. What it actually gets you on the High Streets and how much is needed to maintain the lifestyle i've come to enjoy and expect.