Teens on busses. I try my hardest to
avoid East London busses between three and four in the afternoon
because this seems to be when screaming teens seem to be at their
most hormonal. They pile on busses in clusters of about eight and
give everyone on the bus tinnitus. But when boys get on a few stops
down the line they get even louder. I try and imagine the soft voice
of David Attenborough explaining to me it's all part of the natural
mating process but it's flooded by a high tempo argument about who's
phones better than who's.
It makes me wonder what we used to
argue about when we were that age, a time where there was no such
thing as an “aye” phone. Someone defaced my Guess Who
game. And someone else accused me of stealing her tights. Then
someone fell out with me because a boy she fancied asked me out and
even though I said no she still picked on me for the rest of my life.
I was always an easy target because I
was rubbish at arguing back. The words would get jumbled up as I
tried to say them which gave them even more to play with. As a cry
for help I soldered scissors together in woodwork class but no one
noticed, read extracts from my stories about drugs, prostitution and
suicide in English class but no one even listened, and then I bunked
off for nearly six weeks and still no one noticed, except the dinner
lady because I still owed her for a doughnut.
Around aged ten when we all started
smoking, which we did wearing hideously eighties make up, I was still
in nappies at night-time (nervous child) which was very weird.. fags
check, make up check, nappy... sounds like something from a beauty
pageant contest... it wasn't. I wore a brace that went all the way
around my head, pressing against my chubby cheeks, a tight perm, and
big Sue Pollard glasses covering my whole face.
Back to the teens on the busses,
talking about how “mash up” they're gonna get later. Oh the
glamour of getting so intoxicated they'll be spending the following
day over a bowl, trying to remember who said what to who and who's no
longer speaking to who. Crawling to the pound shop for a pregnancy
test to do in the bogs of Macky Dee's. “I'm gonna get way more
mashed that you” surely they may as well be saying “My sick
bowl's well better than yours”
Will there ever be a time, when we'll
hear kids on busses say things in reverse like “I'm gonna get
proper balanced this weekend.. I'm gonna eat a well balanced diet and
get a well early night”
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