Pass the crossbow...it is Time.
In town, at lunchtime, I saw the following:
>Two smackies in Woolworths. He had no teeth and a swallow tattooed on his neck. She had no teeth, white eyeshadow and a bright pink scarf tied round her head. They were emaciated, with the requisite dead, soulless eyes. They were looking at a games console - presumably the dole pays rather well these days.
>A middle-aged woman and a twelve year-old girl chatting while walking down the centre of the pedestrian thoroughfare. The woman was wearing a black, floor-length ballgown and pink shoes, and was carrying a WH Smith carrier bag. The girl seemed unfazed by this.
>A pasty-faced, blank-eyed girl with an enormous gold clown pendant dangling round her grimy neck. Her pasty-faced child was listlessly sucking milk from a grubby bottle while viewing passers by with total apathy.
>A huffing, muttering, scowling woman in her early thirties (Garfer will doubtless be able to tell you exactly how old) weaving through Superdrug in a frenzy of futile annoyance as various old ladies, shuffling teenagers and halfwitted shop assistants conspired to block her path at every turn like a live-action, deeply infuriating game of Pacman.
Oh, hang on. That last one was me.
>Two smackies in Woolworths. He had no teeth and a swallow tattooed on his neck. She had no teeth, white eyeshadow and a bright pink scarf tied round her head. They were emaciated, with the requisite dead, soulless eyes. They were looking at a games console - presumably the dole pays rather well these days.
>A middle-aged woman and a twelve year-old girl chatting while walking down the centre of the pedestrian thoroughfare. The woman was wearing a black, floor-length ballgown and pink shoes, and was carrying a WH Smith carrier bag. The girl seemed unfazed by this.
>A pasty-faced, blank-eyed girl with an enormous gold clown pendant dangling round her grimy neck. Her pasty-faced child was listlessly sucking milk from a grubby bottle while viewing passers by with total apathy.
>A huffing, muttering, scowling woman in her early thirties (Garfer will doubtless be able to tell you exactly how old) weaving through Superdrug in a frenzy of futile annoyance as various old ladies, shuffling teenagers and halfwitted shop assistants conspired to block her path at every turn like a live-action, deeply infuriating game of Pacman.
Oh, hang on. That last one was me.
posted by surly girl at 2:43 pm
14 Comments:
I think you're living in the middle of a zombie movie (probably on the lines of Shaun of the Dead). Would you like to borrow my cricket bat?
Look out! They're behind you!
chin up
snearly christmas, innit?
I'm with dave. Sounds like you accidently went into the other town... you know, the one you've been warned about.
Pissed off any toothless old ladies with a weird gaze, recently?
Sorry, but unfortunately for SG and I, that's not the other town, it's actually our town.
Sounds like an average high street to me. Get yourself a tazer like the rest of us. You're gonna need it when they come for you.
if i thought i could get my hands on an untraceable tazer i would even now be marauding up and down the streets of thistown sparking fuckwits left right and centre. rich pickings indeed on a friday night.....and in the middle of fireworks crowds tomorrow it would be nothing short of hilarious....
Heh - ballgown woman reminds of a young couple I saw wandering around Southampton some months ago on a busy Saturday afternoon.
Her: Dressed entirely in traditional Japanese Geisha outfit, including the proper hairstyle (although no make-up, sadly). Also wearing a look of grim detirmination wich said: "This his how I want to dress, and I just fucking dare you to say anything about it!"
Him: Typical pasty chav in a baseball cap and football shirt, shuffling behind her with a combination of resigned embarrassment and sheer terror in case they bump into his mates.
Was going to say the last one was a description of me, but you'd never see me dead in Superdrug!
I'm sure there's a cons-piracy at shopping centres whereby it's all perfectly normal and civil until the Mysterious They see you coming on their CCTVs and let all the mongs out to stand in your way, push you around and generally make your life a misery.
Dave, it's not a zombie movie, it's East Anglia. but you should know that
Which is why I always walk around with a cricket bat at the ready.
Aah. Well yesterday afternoon in Newbury, various zombies and zanies and orange garbed chuggers, saw a plump, untidy, middle aged woman, wearing an ill-assorted outfit in shades of blue, grey and green, wandering zig zag wise along the street, narrowly missing lamp posts and muttering crossly at a shopping list …occasionally stopping suddenly without indicating, causing the (pink) bag on her shoulder to knock old ladies aside. Then I caught sight of her in a shop window and she went a bit pink and fled….
Strange world. On my way to the shops yesterday I nearly tripped over a couple of junkies slumped practically in my front doorway. I swear the girl's skin was grey. "Sorry, I just needed to sit down for a minute," she says to me. "Oh, OK," I smile back at her and go off on my merry way. And for the next hour I had that dreadful suicide-inducing "Another Day In Paradise" by Phil Collins piece of shite stuck in my head.
That sounds like my every lunch-hour in Redhill, Surrey. Almost enough to make me want to stay in the office during lunchtimes. Not quite though.
Too funny!!
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