A Kodak moment in words: Victoria Station, 10am.
A dishevled, middle-aged man drags a squeegee down the inside windows of Ann Summers. His white teeshirt with dirty smudges is pressed against the glass. Two inches behind him, a lacy lingerie-clad mannequin with silk skin peers over his shoulder seductively. He is careful not to bump her cleavage with his elbow as he works.