Look sharp

On the day: 
07/08/2012 

On the way: 
The bottle is tiny, one of those sample-sized ones you can expect on a plane, and it is barely visible as it shelters in the palm of his man-sized hand. It's just tall enough  to show the dark brown liquor coursing through the top of its neck as he lifts it to his lips. 
He's a young man, his back against a pole at the door of the bus - mid-twenties maybe, blue jeans, grey and blue sweatshirt, white trainers. His hair is dark, neatly cut, the bottom of his jaw and chin showing just enough shadow to be whatever just enough shadow signifies, his nose strong, with a slight hook, softens before it can come to a point. 
He turns his head with all the sharpness of a man sucking on the hard stuff on a bus at 10 to 9 on a Tuesday morning, rouged eyes an inch out of focus, and fixes me with a salesman's smile blurred at the edges. He nods towards the white plastic shopping bag clutched in his left hand. "Ywanna buya razor?" 
No thank you. 
"Cmaan, you needa buya razor." 
No thank you. 
He shakes his head, disappointed. Clearly I don't understand. 
"You needa shave man." 

On the pod: 
Hand To Hold On To - John Cougar 

On the front page: 
Agony and ecstasy on road to Olympic history (The Times)