The Primrose Hill Diaries part 4: the Uber driver who came into my house

and didn't leave.

I really had to get somewhere, to deliver some keys to someone by a certain time, but it was a cold wet Saturday morning which I had entered into too slowly, longing to stay in my pyjamas and stay in bed and read a book and maybe just die for a bit. Just one of those nice long weekend morning deaths which can really keep you alive, in the long run. I hope you are reading this on one of those mini deaths yourself. Stay horizontal, make limited noises. If nobody has brought you tea, inform the police immediately.

But no, it was 8am and I had to leave the house, but I didn’t know if I was going to make it on time as I had deathed my way through that crucial 7am to 8am window, so I ended up ordering an Uber. Which is a minicab, in case you don’t live in Wankerville or speak fluent Wankese.