London on a Saturday = Hell on bloody earth…

You go away for two days and all hell breaks loose. But then again, who cares – it’s someone else’s hell, right? Completely randomly and spontaneously on Wednesday I decided that I’d go up and visit my family for a couple of days to try and get some mental perspective. Two days with my brother and beautiful views and use of a car and some decent food and totally quiet sleeping environments. Terrifyingly calming. See if you can guess the common feature of the following photos:

That’s right! They don’t have any bloody fucking people in them! Arriving back in London on a Saturday afternoon in Midsummer was like being stuck in a bloody battery farm after being free range. I’m finding it harder and harder to deal with all .. the .. bloody .. morons .. milling around London at two miles an hour, holding hands while walking about three feet apart from each other, glancing in each other’s eyes longingly and casually swinging their pastel shopping bags around while behind them fifty or sixty people are stuck at their pedestrian snail’s pace – each and everyone thinking so loud it must be practically audible, “What the fuck is wrong with you people?! And would there be a jury in the land who would convict me if I pulled out a sword right now and ran you all through?!”

3 replies on “London on a Saturday = Hell on bloody earth…”

I know *exactly* what you mean.
But, while they’re fuckwits and are determined to prove such status to anyone unfortunate enough to be within half a mile’s radius of them, our reactions to such people tell a lot about ourselves.
A month or two ago, I would get so worked up by similar things. Working in Carnaby Street would exacerbate my ire, because it attracts all sorts of feckless tourists. But much of my anger was projected: I was stressed beyond all hope by my job. I have friends who can testify to the state I was in, and the palpable relief once my redundancy was confirmed (luckily, I’d been looking for a new job and managed to walk staright into one).
Since my change in job status, I’ve been much less likely to blow up in frustration at other people, no matter how bollock-wrenchingly egocentric their selfish behaviour becomes.
You’ve been working amazingly hard over the recent weeks and months, to fantastic effect — which must have put you under phenomenal pressure. I’d be amazed if that wasn’t having an influence on the impact other people are having on you.

Oh yes! You’ve no idea the number of times I’ve thought exactly this, really non-pc violent thoughts that raise shocked looks from even the most liberal of friends, and comments, “Why do you hate everyone so much?”
A long time ago a friend and I discussed this, and we agreed that individuals, persons are fine, but the problem is people. It’s a subtle difference. Persons are individuals you know, and they are real, but people are just this bunch of mouth-breathers that clog up Brighton every summer.
Ah, this explanation only really goes well after lots of beer in a loud pub.

Move to Sussex – land of the free! A place where a traffic jam consists of three cars and 50p parking rates are considered daylight robbery.

Comments are closed.