I'm wearing my banana skirt.
I think I'm trying to rebel. Against the hue of greys and blacks Brits tend to rip the ring out of. Black stockings, black shoes, black coat, and maybe if they're feeling a little devilish, throw in a blue cardigan.
Well. I'm all one for the classics, but winter isn't here yet you strange, weird, nation. In fact, I sat outside today and ate my lunch on the building balcony. That's right. So lay off on the muted goth look already, and stop staring at my fucking skirt.
But I don't think that's the reason why I wore a yellow raver skirt to work.
It's the crowd thing. Again. I'm going on, because I really need to get to the bottom of this. Before I lose my shit.
My annoyance with millions of people is set in the tiniest detail.
I've finally realised the irritating detail that fucks me off about crowds.
And boy is it making me mad.
It's not the quantity of people. Nor is it the location in which those people throng. In their greys and blacks.
It's that they're the sneakiest bunch of opportunists on the planet. Just as you find a foot's worth of space in front of you, someone just eases into it before you do.
Or you see a free ticket machine. And you're within touching distance of it, and some little fucker slides in just before you.
Or you find a spot to stand in the train. Except some asshole puts his bag down on the spot before you get there. And it happens when you're so close. Quick as lightening. And frankly, it's driving me beserk.
Do I sound irate? Does it sound like I want to flail through the people with a machete? With their solemn little faces, who don't understand me unless I say 'yeah?' on the end of my sentence?
Does it sound like the honeymoon period is over and culture difference has fully set in?
Then yes, it has.
But by no means do I want to run home. I'm not crying for home. But I think it's time time to admit that I might just be entering a new phase on my settlement here.
I love my Brit, so I'll remove him from the stereotype I just slammed above.
London rocks. The stiff upper-lipped snarky Brits in their suits in blue and black hues are irritating the crap out of me today.
PS: Tomorrow it'll be fine.
PPS: I think I'm PMSing.
PPPS: It was the crowds, I blame the crowds!
3 comments:
Ha! You've just hit on my biggest peeve in this country. The most frustrating thing is how they do everything to avoid your death-glare after slithering in front of you.
I get it every single morning. I'm standing at the very front of the door waiting for the train for a good few minutes, and somehow half the population of Wandsworth manages to sneak in front of me while pointedly avoiding any kind of eye contact.
Bloody weasels!
Hey Peas,
Haven't posted in what seems forever. Just to gain alittle perspective. Don't London crowds remind you of jozi traffic? Think of them as taxi drivers and have your revenge.
You will learn when to do nothing, and when to: 1.come right up to them flip them the bird,
2.overtake them.
3.Hit dead brakes infront of them!
Change the perception, change the problem :)
*sterkte*
rumlover - classic, and somehow half the population of Wandsworth manages to sneak in front of me.
So true. How the hell they manage, while lookign all stoic and ignoring any eye contact is beyond me. Boggles the mind!
Aasia - now you're talking. This is just waht I needed - perspective. It's a brilliant plan - the taxi drivers at home made me mental, and now the crowds here - but you've got it so right, definitely going to try this tactic.
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