Tommy the tax payer

Tommy, my housing officer from the Housing Association, has called by to make his six month check. Lucky I was in as I'd forgotten all about it. I like Tommy. We started off quite badly but we've built a solid friendship over the years. I told him the council came round yesterday to tell me to move into private accommodation when the lease expires.

"So Tommy, if I'm lucky, I find a nice two bedroom flat near my son's school with a nice big garden and your taxes can pay for me to live there. How do you feel about that?"

He breathed in, exhaled slowly. "You're an intelligent, knowledgeable, informative person. We can have this conversation but those in the council, those writing the policies, they don't care for what we have to say."

"She asked me if I was a British Citizen and I laughed and said I wasn't from Camden so should have made an application for asylum." I tell this British Nigerian. "I understand asylum seeker needs but this block is full of Europeans too. I ask why I've fallen down the list. New entrants have come in before me she says. New entrants? What's the waiting list about if a new entrant can go before me?"

"You don't have eight children so you are penalised."
"I don't have eight children, I don't have a drug problem, I don't have issues with alcohol abuse, I haven't escaped domestic violence, there is nothing wrong with me."

"The system does not cater for people like you and me. The system doesn't allow for people like you and me to put our brains to good use and benefit from it. We don't want to be entrepreneurs but they don't want us to succeed. Imagine a man, he was a teacher, he WAS a very good teacher. He lost his job and two years down the line he's walking down the street and what he had has no bearing on his life. He has joined the mass at the bottom."

He said I should become an advocate, make my situation work for me, use the situation I am in to bring about change.

Regarding my housing options he suggested I leave London. Make a bold move and see what happens.

I love London. It's good to single people. I do worry for my son though. I spend alot of time worrying for my son. The odds that we end up being housed on some big, shit estate are quite high.

I need a drink. The little one's going with his dad this afternoon. Fortunately I've made no plans with friends tonight so I'm going to go to the cinema. Duplicity doesn't tickle my fancy. There are some interesting sounding independent films at the Renoir. The ticket costs a little over the price of three bottles of Budvar. I like drinking in films by myself.