Sunday, April 23, 2006

This sign's at the top of our street. I like to think of it as a nice welcome for anyone that dares to walk and pay us a visit. 'Danger of Death. Keep Out'. Says it all, really, doesn't it? But mainly, it says, don't muck about beyond this gate. Or you'll end up looking like that stick man, and a lightning bolt will strike. There are power cables within, apparently, containing several thousand volts. Naturally, I just carried on my merry way. Sundays are ridiculously quiet around these streets, given that it's a densely populated neighbourhood. I nipped into a pub en route to the supermarket. It was a dreadful place. I know they're appropriate, today of all days, but I should've taken heed of all those St George crosses draped in the window. Inside lurked thugs. Nasty thugs. People that don't take too kindly to strangers like me invading their territory. People that are still living in some weird Love Thy Neighbour hate-com. They stared at me. I looked straight ahead, at a big screen showing nonsense music channel TMF. I supped my beer and left, then headed to the supermarket and bought beer and cola and a copy of NME. There were more thugs, this time on bicycles, on the main road. There were also a few of those androgynous narcissistic couples that look far too much a) like each other and b) like 12-year-old boys strolling around, hand in hand, making the most of the sunshine and spending time with themselves.

Listening: Gnarls Barkley - St Elsewhere.

1 comment:

Benjamin said...

It would be funny if it wasn't so true. My mum lives in this little harbour on the south coast called Newhaven and thats rough also. My way of reminding you its not just Hull/Yorkshire. What gets me is the scale of wastage of daytime activity devoted to the pub or to Teddy's Amusements...

or to right-wing local newspapers! The play sounds hot. Hope it goes well x