An Up and Coming Area.

I bought this flat sixteen years ago. The estate agent said it was an incredible price in an “up and coming area”. I would never accuse someone of lying unless I had clear evidence, so I put the estate agents wild claims down to them being easily impressed by a slum with a few prick boutiques.

I don’t know where you live or what it is like but I am curious like a French pen friend. If you’re curious about life in a slum with prick boutiques and vegan options, read on. This is how we up and came yesterday.

The rapture is upon us. Upon my travels yesterday I chanced upon a very angry man who was fizzing mad about WiFi. He was asking a shop assistant if she had Wifi at home and when she said she had he roared that she was thick and was going to end up with cancer and a smart meter.

I was unclear which of the two he regarded as worse. I was feeling a bit sorry for the shop assistant when she responded that she uses crystals to ward of WiFi cancer, then I realised that she too was a living bin fire.

Honestly you ought to have heard the pair of them “my third eye is open”, “I fight all injustice”, “they think we’re mad because they’re thick”, “they want us all drunk on Buckfast” on and on it went.

One highlight was the chap blowing the birds mind with the revelation that there is no such thing as homelessness because by law one can enter any hotel anywhere in Scotland and they have to give you a room free for as long as you need it. As long as you quote the homelessness act the council will pick up the tab. Only thick people go direct to the council and the angry man has availed himself of this service and I quote “every time my wife throws me out”. I have some professional experience in this sort of thing, it’s a bit out of date but in my opinion you really should quote laws at the council rather than demand refuge in an Ibis.

I fled the scene when the man went on to say that no academic in Scotland will debate him because they are frightened of his command of the facts.

I concede this took place in a branch of Holland and Barrett which like all health shops and chemists is a world class zoomer magnet but it wasn’t even lunch time.

The afternoon passed off uneventfully enough until I decided to nip in to Aldi. I normally quite like Aldi regarding it as one of the more incident free supermarkets. There was an unaccountable strangeness about Aldi. My first clue that something had gone awry came when I inadvertently startled a man who my mother would describe as “on drugs”. I was looking for the fake Jo Malone candles in the basket bit down the middle of the shop when all of a sudden the “on drugs” man went “waaaa” as if alarmed. Being somewhat alarmed myself I looked in the direction of the “waaaa” and noted he was about a quarter of the way through stuffing a kettle in to a bag whilst staring at me in horror. Well I say staring but it was more pointing with his face. His eyes were rolling in his head and I would not like to speculate upon what they were seeing.

I wasn’t sure how to tackle the situation. My initial thought that the decent thing to do would be to tell the man his movements were unusually slow and conspicuous and that he might be best to abandon his free kettle scheme until he’d worked on his technique.

I’m afraid I didn’t do the decent thing and carried on, on my fruitless candle search, picked up a few other bits and bobs and headed for the checkout. As I was standing in the queue the kettle thief began his painfully slow walk towards the doors. It was only marginally quicker than watching tooth decay as he rolled by the security guard at the door, unchallenged and out on to the street. This kettle theft may well be the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

The whole time I was watching this unusual spectacle from the checkout queue, a strange man in rather flamboyant and large ladies sunglasses was standing against my shoulder, making growling noises and muttering things. He had said something I couldn’t make out to me earlier when I was selecting a packet of cheese. It was most unsettling and if I’m honest I didn’t like it.

In the last few minutes, since I began typing this a very loud man has appeared outside my close and is presently roaring at the smokers outside the pub about “THE GOOD NEWS ABOUT JESUS”. One of them is shouting “SHITE” at him.

I want to live in quiet suburb. This is all a bit much.

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