Out of my head, can't take it...

I'm back. *Rapturous applause* Like Take That (or a McDonald's chicken nugget), I have reformed to bring my musings back to an adoring public (actual levels of adoration may vary). I really have no excuses, so I shan't offer any. Instead, have a thought that did occur to me in the long period since I last wrote...

In Liverpool Street station, in London's money-infested terrorist-target City, is a sign that says, "Professional beggars operate in this station." Think about that for a minute. Professional beggars. That's as opposed to amateur beggars, is it? Beggars who do it for the skill, the fun, the excitement, but who only accept payment in milk-bottle tops. Or, like my Sunday morning amateur football status, do they pay for the privilege and still get nothing in return?
And why the sign? If I get accosted by a beggar, I'll know there are beggars there. It's not like I see the sign and think, 'oh, that tramp demanding money from me wasn't my bank manager. Thank God I knew that beforehand or I could have signed over all my savings*'. Jesus wept.

*Nil.