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I’m like, “Girl, you a survivor!” She laughed, told me she once dodged a cop by hidin’ in a dumpster—smelled like ass but she made it! I was dyin’, picturin’ her divin’ in trash like a badass. “Witness me!” she yelled, cackling—straight outta the movie! Made me happy as fuck, seein’ her own it. But then, ugh, this sleazy dude rolled up, actin’ all entitled—pissed me off! Wanted her for cheap, like she ain’t worth gold. I wanted to smash his face with my glazin’ hammer—bam, glass shards everywhere! She handled it tho, sassed him into the ground—queen shit.

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After the match, I’m feeling pumped. I head back to High Street, and I see this street performer. He’s playing the guitar, and he’s actually pretty good! I toss him a couple of quid and start dancing like a lunatic. People are staring, but I don’t care. I’m just living my best life!

Jitterbug dancing and selling out beer: How Romford celebrated VE Day 80 years ago