Sheffield... chav central...
Had to help my grandad do his shopping earlier today. We went to Netto, not the classiest of joints, but my nan and my grandad are pensioners, a bit skint and for some strange reason, like it there.
It was OK, it was 10am in the morning so it wasn't that full. Lots of old men in flat caps ( it's not just a yorkshire cliche, I counted at least 12 of them in a half empty store ealier) and teenage mothers, pushing their babies, or in one case, dragging their screaming brat up and down the aisles.
I shouldn't slag the women off for sounding, and looking like chavs. I looked a bit like one too, in a baggy orange wooly jumper that has become way too big for me, a bright purple fleece, and (thanks to a bad haircut in BKK last month) that other symbol of female chav-dom, greasy hair slapped back into a high ponytail. The only thing missing was a big dollop of blusher and lippy, things I've never been that keen on wearing.
Everyone looked miserable. No one, not even the shop assistants, or the girls working on the till smiled. though, I guess if I were paying 20.00 pounds for a couple of packets of frozen fishfingers, a few microwave ready meals, a 6 pack of WKD and a weeks worth of diet coke, I'd feel pretty miserable too.
Anyway, I was pushing the trolley down the aisle, listening to my grandad read out my nan's shoopping list. In the 20 mins or so that we were in the store, I heard the following...
"what the f** does she think she's looking at" (I made the mistake of smiling at a lump of lard and her friend who were looking right ahead at me...)
"what the f**k's she got to be so 'appy a'bart" (surley looking woman who walked past me...)
"if she doesn't wipe that f**kin grin off her face, I'll chin her..." (said by
a woman in Poundstretchers, another store, a few doors down as I waited in the longest and slowest checkout queue in the world ever, to pay for a few pairs of cheap socks...)
I said I wasn't gonna slag these chavs. off... so I won't.
My grandad and I took the shopping to my nans. I stayed there a while, watching daytime TV and catching up with my nan and grandad. My grandad offered me a lift to town. I told him I wanted to walk for a bit, then get the bus. I took the shortcut down the side of the woods, went past the old peoples home, crossed the road and was about to stop at the bus stop.
There was a gang of teenage kids hanging around the bus shelter, trying to look hard. "What's she f**king lookin at?" one of them said. I didn't fancy standing there long enough to reply, so walked down to the next one. Same story. Another group of kids, skiving off school, showing their coolness by standing by the bus shelter and intimidating anyone wanting to wait for the bus.
I got on the bus, only to walk into an Eastenders set. A couple were argueing very loudly. Everyone was watching, and listening to their every word. The guy rang the bell, trying to escape the onslaught of abuse. "Whete the **k d'you think your' go'in " the girl screeched.
Everyone looked like they wanted the 2 of them to shut up, but the couple were chavs. No one wanted to become their next target. Everyone watched, silently. No one dared to tell them to calm down.
The bus made it into town, and I took a walk up the high street. Sheffield city centre's been in decline for years. Each year, it gets worse. More 'quailty' shops close. More 'everything a pound' and cheap clothes shops open. People with money stop visiting. The only people who shop in town now are those with little money to go elsewhere. The working class poor.... Single mothers, chavs and old age pensioners. Chav's act as if they are proud of their attitude, and behaviour.
I used to feel really proud of my city. "Everyone in Sheffield" as my landlord in Bangkok delights in telling me "is so friendly and helpful."
Not any more... Chavs rule.
|Create Date : 09 พฤศจิกายน 2550
|Last Update : 9 พฤศจิกายน 2550 14:43:54 น.
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