Where is Simon?

Christmas time entails many merry peripeteias.
First of all there were those two guys, one steering another very drunk one, on Regent St. His completely boozed companion wore a big bright orange plastic bag as a bib. I had never seen anything like that before, however I must admit that I truly admired the idea. Seriously, somebody should start to fabricate bibs for late night drunks, so they don't spoil their smart outfits by throwing up all over themselves anymore. After many a year of investigating the problem I daresay that overshoes would be also very applicable.
At some point I had to stop by Oxford Circus station. One rat-arsed young men greeted me in French. He carried on, speaking that language. I asked him why was he speaking French. He answered that he had been taking many french lessons. Then he added (mixing French and English constantly): "Look at Oxford Circus! Look at those people! There's nobody friendly around here! I'm looking for somebody nice and friendly!"
When I asked where was he from he answered that he was a Moroccan from Chicago, leaving in Montreal. Afterwards there was much more nonsense said on his behalf, both in English and French. Finally he said he respected people who took the responsibility of driving others from one place to another and that I was worth much more then I would probably think I was. It was then that he spotted some nightshift workers emerging from the tube station and ran to make friends with them too...
Later on a gent, whom I spotted wondering around Cambrige Circus told me that two Irish gayboys stole his hat and escaped. "How odd!" - he added - "I came here from NY on business trip to get my hat stolen! I'm an Irishman too..." I advised him to write about it in his blog or something. He wished me a good night and went on in search of his hat...
A girl standing not so far from me started to say something in my direction. I couldn't quite get it until I got a bit closer to her (that does not implicate any carnal knowledge of her on my behalf). She kept repeating one phrase. Finally I got it. Giving me a well dramatic look she kept asking: "Where is Simon?!"