Fear and Loathing in Essex
Pub dinner last night was a bit of a nightmare in the end. Having looked forward to it so much, it was ruined by the kind of intolerant fight-hungry chavscum cunts that are so prolific in this dirty hole that maps call Essex. Let me explain...
Got to the pub, ordered some drinks, picked a nice table for two in the almost empty front section of the pub. Sat down, had a good chat, looked at the menu, went up and ordered, enjoyed yummy starters and got started on our main course... and then it all went wrong. Two stereotypical blonde, thick-as-pigshit, whorey chavs came and sat at the table for six next to ours (despite the room being all but empty) and started talking, or should I say shrieking, at each other as loudly as possible. So far, so irritating. But you know, I'm a live-and-let-live type of person, it's a pub (though not normally the sort of pub that attracts the real dregs of 'society'), it's Essex, this is a risk that you run. So, we carry on eating and try to block out the common caterwauling to our left.
But, here comes the heavy artillery. Ten minutes later, three stereotypical scummy male chavs come over and start asking the whorey chav girls if they can sit down. My heart drops. “Only if you have cigarettes” they reply. Classy. But again, you know, live and let live, risk you run, blah de blah, they're only going to make the shit conversation louder, and we can deal with that if we have to. And yes, they're looking round the room like they own the place, and their aura is pretty intimidating, but hey, maybe that's just my paranoia...
But no. As his mates continue to scan the room, we all get to enjoy a loud monologue from Male Chav 1 about how he and his mates have just been released from two years in prison for robbery and assault. Apparently while burgling people's homes they enjoy giving them a good kicking as well, just for the hell of it. They also enjoy attacking people at random while out and about because 'it's fun'. Lovely. The whorey chav girls are actually enjoying this, and it seems to be acting as an aphrodisiac. For Him and I, however, it has a completely opposite effect.
Imagine sitting in an environment that was safe as anything five minutes ago, and is now a danger zone. The eyes of self-congratulatory violent scum are travelling round the room just looking for prey. You find yourself mentally noting every single thing about yourself that marks you out as different from this human filth, everything that marks you out as a good target. I’m not blonde, I’m not thin, I don't have a common voice, I wear more than a bikini top and a miniskirt, I drink wine… It’s the most horrendous feeling.
And so, as quickly and quietly as possible, we left. And I tried to block my ears to the fact that the scum we'd left behind us found it very gratifying that they'd made us go.
And now, fifteen hours, two flood of tears, another sleepless night (I'm having insomnia, I'll tell you some other time), and a long blog entry later, how do I feel? Well, the main thing I'm actually thinking about is how it can be possible not only that people similar to He and I (by which I mean not chav scum) actively choose to live in Essex, but how His family can defend this place to the death, and honestly not understand why we wouldn't want to live here.
Well, here's why: because it's built on a stinking sewer of human filth that bubbles up into every public place it can and taints everything with its foul excrescent stench of violence, ignorance and hate.
Will that do?
Got to the pub, ordered some drinks, picked a nice table for two in the almost empty front section of the pub. Sat down, had a good chat, looked at the menu, went up and ordered, enjoyed yummy starters and got started on our main course... and then it all went wrong. Two stereotypical blonde, thick-as-pigshit, whorey chavs came and sat at the table for six next to ours (despite the room being all but empty) and started talking, or should I say shrieking, at each other as loudly as possible. So far, so irritating. But you know, I'm a live-and-let-live type of person, it's a pub (though not normally the sort of pub that attracts the real dregs of 'society'), it's Essex, this is a risk that you run. So, we carry on eating and try to block out the common caterwauling to our left.
But, here comes the heavy artillery. Ten minutes later, three stereotypical scummy male chavs come over and start asking the whorey chav girls if they can sit down. My heart drops. “Only if you have cigarettes” they reply. Classy. But again, you know, live and let live, risk you run, blah de blah, they're only going to make the shit conversation louder, and we can deal with that if we have to. And yes, they're looking round the room like they own the place, and their aura is pretty intimidating, but hey, maybe that's just my paranoia...
But no. As his mates continue to scan the room, we all get to enjoy a loud monologue from Male Chav 1 about how he and his mates have just been released from two years in prison for robbery and assault. Apparently while burgling people's homes they enjoy giving them a good kicking as well, just for the hell of it. They also enjoy attacking people at random while out and about because 'it's fun'. Lovely. The whorey chav girls are actually enjoying this, and it seems to be acting as an aphrodisiac. For Him and I, however, it has a completely opposite effect.
Imagine sitting in an environment that was safe as anything five minutes ago, and is now a danger zone. The eyes of self-congratulatory violent scum are travelling round the room just looking for prey. You find yourself mentally noting every single thing about yourself that marks you out as different from this human filth, everything that marks you out as a good target. I’m not blonde, I’m not thin, I don't have a common voice, I wear more than a bikini top and a miniskirt, I drink wine… It’s the most horrendous feeling.
And so, as quickly and quietly as possible, we left. And I tried to block my ears to the fact that the scum we'd left behind us found it very gratifying that they'd made us go.
And now, fifteen hours, two flood of tears, another sleepless night (I'm having insomnia, I'll tell you some other time), and a long blog entry later, how do I feel? Well, the main thing I'm actually thinking about is how it can be possible not only that people similar to He and I (by which I mean not chav scum) actively choose to live in Essex, but how His family can defend this place to the death, and honestly not understand why we wouldn't want to live here.
Well, here's why: because it's built on a stinking sewer of human filth that bubbles up into every public place it can and taints everything with its foul excrescent stench of violence, ignorance and hate.
Will that do?
posted by Mookmoo at 12:09 pm
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