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  • Used to go early every saturday when my lad was titchy, once saw Kevin Rowland sat under the inevitable Eastenders’ cast signed photos. Kevin reminded me of russian royalty in exile, somehow. Faded. Also used to see Dave Gorman in there.

    I rather miss Nevio the chatty guy in there (he pitied us when we moved south -‘what dyou wanna go there for?’), and the lanky mod one with the dyed hair who never talks. Nev once saw me come by wearing a garish red beanie with the Pisa football team stuff on it. He hinted that I might not align with the politics of Pisa fans, bless him. I had found the hat, washed it and worn it, and had no clue they are known as a fascist team.

    Cue wiganwill taking the piss out of this drivel…

  • Last time we were there the East End Gangster Tour Bus was outside blaring “That’s Amore” on a loop at bowel-loosening volume; the driver got out shooting fake pistols into the sky, popped into the caff to Nev’s greeting “How the fack are ya mate?!” The seven year old kid sitting across from us with her mum sank into her chair a bit. Still, best cheese-lake lasagne in H*ckney..

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