I honestly don’t know where I live any more.
I used to life near a quiet little village where people came and went and life was very quiet and peaceful.
I don’t recognise what they have put in its place.
My coffee shop has suddenly turned lime green, is covered with flowers and is now called “A Tower of Hair”! What the fuck? What does that even mean?
The grocery shop is suddenly turned into “Painting Painting on the Wall”. How is that even a name of something?
There’s a new “Mary Popover’s Bakery” over the road from the coffee shop in place of a small café [their coffee ain’t a patch on my place and anyway I don’t like the owner]. At least that name has a semblance of purpose to it, as has the chemist which is now “The Cauldron”.
The hardware shop is now “The Butchers”. I went in and asked for a pound of mince. He gave me a cylinder of lighter gas. At lease he knows me which is gently reassuring.
I was down there yesterday and had to go back again today. Fucking bedlam! The place is packed with sightseers and workmen. There are signs everywhere saying “Film Crew Only”. There are dozens, nay hundreds of fucking cones along with steel barriers and notices saying “Use other footpath” where there is no other footpath. Traffic is gridlocked as no one knows where to go any more. Don’t any of them have jobs or homes to go to?
I’ll tell you one thing.
There is no fucking way I’m going near that strange village on Monday, even though that’s supposed to be the reopening of the coffee shop [if it still exists behind “The Tower of Hair”].
If it’s bad today, it will be sheer hell on a bank holiday Monday.