It's Freak Night on Kilburn High Road.

Outside Brondes Age bar, a middle-aged man chats on his mobile, wearing a full Spiderman costume, the mask pushed back off his face onto the top of his head. The kid who processes my Switch card in the computer games shop is all of nine years old. Across the road, the pug-faced woman is keeping up her usual ignored litany: "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me..." The dirty, scary man is lying on his sun-lounger in the council block gardens again, his obscene crotch competing with his enormous belly and jellied thighs. Further up the hill, an old man stands by the side of the road, casting an imaginary rod into the imaginary river that is Cricklewood Broadway. A young well-dressed guy stands on a corner screaming and punching, wrestling with demons.