Writing
	Downturn Mon, 24 Sep 2001

Sitting upstairs in a quiet pub in central London, letting the sausage and mash and spotted dick settle, swapping unlikely theories on how to make the world a better place. The waitress comes over to clear the table of empty glasses and plates.

Her: Are you web programmers?

Us: Oh, erm, [embarrassed laugh], yeah, does it show?

Her: Sorry, I just overheard y… I was a web programmer.

Us: Oh, right, really?

Her: Yeah. It’s a difficult time isn’t it. I lost my job earlier this year.

Us: Ah. Yeah, er, we know lots of people who lost their jobs. It’s tricky. Er, where were you?

Her: Zinc, an agency that was just over there. We did stuff for Microsoft, banks, that kind of thing. And now here I am clearing up your ketchup.

Us: [pause] Ah, ha ha. Yeah, sorry. Anyway. Er, good luck.

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