Lash­ings of ginger beer

Published Categorised as Life in General No Comments on Lash­ings of ginger beer

I’ve been in Medway this week­end, I’m stay­ing at my mum’s, but she’s not there. My auntie went into hospit­al to have her coch­lear implant done, and her daugh­ter is away on her long pre-booked holi­day, so my mum’s gone to pick her up from hospit­al and look after her for a few days until her sense of balance returns.

I went to my dad’s to ride my new bike, which I won for the princely sum of £28 on ebay, and was located near him, so he picked it up. I haven’t ridden a bike in about 15 years, and I wasn’t even sure if I could actu­ally do it or not. Turns out I can. I rode up and down a cul-de-sac full of 70s old people’s bunga­lows with treach­er­ous bends most of the time, it felt appro­pri­ate. My arse is sore though. Needs harden­ing up. Raleigh Chop­pers are heavy and wobbly and totally imprac­tic­al, but they look great. I always go for the swish but imprac­tic­al item, Chris always tries to persuade me to be sens­ible about these things, but I never am. I feel I have to be sens­ible far too often, and it’s danger­ous being too sens­ible, you might find you’ve turned into your dad. I need to get a bar to go at the back though. I nearly won one on ebay, but I was out riding the bike when it finished, and I was outbid by 20p. 20p!! I like the fact that you can success­fully ride the bike in flares, with no cycling clips or trouser tuck­ing needed. Now that’s a 70s posing bike! My one is actu­ally two-tone pink and red. I’m going to get some fuschia fake flowers from pound­land and use cable ties to fix some between the handle­bars.

I went round Tukru’s then, and gave her her birth­day presents. A bald, makeup­less Blythe for her to custom­ise, which I got for myself sever­al years ago and never got around to doing up, so I thought she’d like it (and she did! and had fun creep­ing Carl out), some cruets shaped like hugging kangaroos, some cupcake stick­ers, a glue­stick of pink glue, and an iron on T motif.

I would’ve gone out tonight, but I have no-one to give me a lift, there’s no night buses, taxis can be hard to come by, and some­thing I saw this after­noon made me remem­ber why I don’t want to walk around Chath­am at night by myself. I came out of the news­agents on Luton Arches on my way back to the house from Tukru & Carl’s, and there were some kids banging anoth­er kids head on the pave­ment, a woman who seemed to know the boys leapt out of a car and star­ted yelling at the kids, and the kid whose head was being banged sat up in tears and said “we were only mess­ing about” to the concerned woman. The boys then all went swag­ger­ing off and push­ing over the pave­ment signs of some shops and spit­ting. Typic­al people of Chath­am I’m afraid. Medway could be nice if they shipped 90% of the people out some­where (Shep­pey, prob­ably, they’d be happy there) and gave it a wash and brush up. I guess I’ve got too used to the hipp­i­fied gentil­ity of Brighton. The constant under­cur­rent of possible viol­ence and gener­al crassness and intoler­ence of your Chath­am­ite on the street used to just wash over me, because I was used to it, now it makes me feel on edge and nervy. I’ve got used to being able to walk around look­ing any way I want, without people having a prob­lem with it.

Receive new posts via email.
Your data will be kept private.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.