And how did I arive here

I have this habit of leaving home between 6:45 and 7:13 in the morning to avoid a pet peeve of mine.....traffic. Just before I approach the Arnos Vale roundabout, I pass a bar adorned in red and white domino designs with a mango tree in the yard. Without fail, I am guaranteed to observe at least 3-5 men sitting under, you would not believe a mango tree, at a rustic table and bench.

These men are not partaking of a breakfast of fruit or even street corner intellectualism. While I avoid and even criticise judgmental personalities..the well-worn chubby bottles with clear liquid that pose before each man belie their early morning appearance....Their lounging posture is possibly one of lethargy not relaxation. I think most likely I am viewing the results of what we proudly call our "strong rum"....aka stale drunk, aka hung over.

And before I continue, I will say I am not a teetotaller - I have had my nights of excessive drinking and I am sure that I may have a couple more to enjoy and endure. But really what are these men doing...have they no homes...no children...no jobs?

And I wonder, how far are any of us, who indulge/enjoy/savour, in distilled delights from that state of sad existence....and how many of us support or habit cloaked behind an executive desk, executive secretary or tailored suit? I ponder at the times I have wished and declared the need for a strong drink in the middle of the afternoon after a morning of constant tasks not realising that I am conditioning my mind to accept a mango tree state in my carpeted office.