There is, near my work, an odd little lane affording free parking (and therefore choked with cars by about 7.30 a.m.) and access to the foot-and-rail bridge which is the quickest way across the river from work.
It runs at the foot of the embankment holding up the rail lines, so along with cars it's also choked with weeds, graffiti, and discarded televisions. (This last bemuses me, and I'm at a loss to explain precisely why, but there really is an inordinate amount of abandoned televisions in this lane.)
And I'm guessing it's a relic of Valentine's Day, but yesterday when I wandered up this odd little lane I found notes tacked to the walls. Probably above where she parks.
Clearly he's a man who has his priorities in order.