Let’s have a little chat about personal space.
I know that there are far more people here than there was say fifteen years ago and most of the big towns are becoming what I consider cluttered.
But that doesn’t mean that when I’m queuing up at the checkout in Iceland you have to breathe down the back of my neck. This guy was so close to me earlier that I could smell what he had eaten for lunch on his breath.
It was a combination of fish, some kind of boiled sweets and dog turd.
And the person standing in front of me was so oblivious to the queue moving that she just stood there staring at the on offer cake at the till. To be fair the offer was very good, two ginger cakes for £1, that’s not bad.
So between the pair of them they managed to muscle me out of the queue and I’m standing there like a spare prick at a wedding. Something I have become very much used to.
It’s very much the same when walking through town. It’s almost like walking into a wall of unthinking, wailing meat every time I venture out of the house. Wave after wave of people barging baby buggies and wheelie trollies and armfuls of shopping bags in my way without as much as a sorry. I hold doors open for people and very rarely do I get a thank you.
Only yesterday I went to the shopping centre and this woman let a door shut in my face, just let it swing shut as I was walking through it and I know the bitch saw me coming but did she think of holding it open, did she fuck. I hope she gets mugged in the car park and it goes wrong and she gets stabbed when the mugger panics because he is startled by someone parking their car up.
The people that really get me though, I mean the folk that really step on my balls are the ones that aren’t aware that other people exist. They are so totally absorbed in their pathetic lives (and they are pathetic, I’ve seen what they are buying) that they lose all sense of manners and common decency.
They stand there as pointless as bollard in a swimming pool, breathing out of their mouths, staring off into the consumerist void when people try and get around them. They stare at you like you’re the arsehole when you say ‘excuse me’ when they are having a chat with their entire family in the entrance of the super market. Yeah that’s it, just block the entrance up then look at people like shit because you’re in the fucking way. I want to take a fuck off combat knife and stab them all in the liver then cut my own eyes out in protest. Or just shit in my hand and smash the turn into their faces in great punched until I can see teeth ripping through their cheeks.
And their little cunting children piss me off the most.
They are terrorising everything and everyone but if you tell them to behave you will be attacked by the parent who sees these micro demons with some sort of golden glow coming off them. The parents don’t correct their behaviour because they are horrible cunts as well.
And as for the staff in some places, holy fucking shit.
ASDA is the worst; as soon as you see one of those fat fuck morons in green and black you just know you’re in for a rough ride. This doesn’t go for all the staff as I have found some people that work there quite friendly, approachable and helpful but there is a handful that really takes the ‘Walmart Family’ thing to heart like its some mafia crime family and they are untouchable. They bowl around that store like they have forgotten that the customer is more important that the staff.
They will not stop when moving pallets around on a pump truck and will barge you out of the way and not even acknowledge that you exist. I mean I know these people have really fulfilled a life goal by becoming a shelf stacker in a supermarket but ‘let’s not let it go to our heads guys’.
You fucking pack of Fraggles, you aint shit, the only thing you have been able to achieve in your life is knowing where the baked beans are and I’m guessing, pumping out a gang of cunt children that are probably as horrible as you and will bully other children to the point of exclusion from school.
And the cycle of mong continues.
Now it sounds like I’m having a dig at everyone that works in supermarkets, I am not. I know guys that work and have worked in super markets and for the most part they hate/hated it and can’t wait to leave. It was a stop-gap before going on to other things. Needs must as the devil drives and all that.
I mean let’s face it people that work in supermarkets are doing better than me, I’m not even working and I struggle from week to week to keep my head above water. I’m really just having a dig at the people that think that that sort of job is the most important thing in the world. I kind of feel sorry for people like that.
I for one really can’t wait for the whole process to become fully automated and run by robots so that hopefully these fat women in their tabards that think microwave curry is good and spend a fortune voting on the X-Factor will die out.
They will walk into the cold and freeze like unwanted horses.
And by this point you may be asking yourself “how can this bloke take the moral high ground when he hasn’t got a job” and to a degree it does sound like I’m the most arrogant person in the world. This is a statement that I can’t argue with as it’s really for other people to formulate opinions on my character but I will defend myself thus.
I do not think that I am better than anyone else I just know that there is better for me out there. I will not just jump into some job that I will be stuck with for a year just to live comfortably. I would rather remain poor, struggle every day and work towards a career than sell out just so I can afford to go out drinking or eat takeaways every other night. I can live without luxuries, I have done it before and it really doesn’t bother me too much.
I am also self-aware.
I tend not to just stumble around bumping into people without acknowledging their existence. As I have said I hold doors open for people, I say excuse me, I say please and thank you, I am aware of people’s personal space and recognise the fact that the need space and some people regard me as a gentleman for doing so.
And if I come across as arrogant then fuck it, at least I’m not a cunt.
And I believe that a level of arrogance is what people need to get what they want in life but I am not an arsehole about it; my ego may be large and in need of constant petting but it’s not on the level of say that cunt off the X-Factor.
I think what I need at this point is a good holiday and I definitely need to move somewhere where the pavements are a little wider, the shops are a little bigger and the populace is a little sparser. Somewhere by the sea, somewhere where people say please, thank you and excuse me.
But I fear that I may need a time machine to find that place.
The struggle is real… peace, out!