It wasn’t long ago that we ended up talking about the Toxteth riots of 1981. Dad mentions how he had been there. Dad, who is familiar with the cast of The Vampire Diaries so much so that last time Jeremy was shot he looked at me to check I was crying, wasn’t exactly throwing bricks at windows and attacking police, but he was there. It’s the closest we have ever been to a riot.
I wasn’t sure on the definition of a riot, and as far as I knew, it was when everyone grabbed their signs and sung. I told dad, “I want to go to a riot.” He looked at me in disbelief and mum laughed.
I then went on to say that I would be good in a riot because I was loud and I knew all the words to a lot of songs. I half expected everyone to gather around and walk down a street while we sung Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs. But that wasn’t what was happening. I found that out when the blues in the politics brought tuition fees up and crowds threw fences at the police. No, I didn’t want to go to a riot. I wanted to go to a demonstration. Evidently, they are two different things.
Not long after there was a demonstration in Liverpool. Of course, I wore my old, not made for walking shoes and instead of doing the eighty mile walk or however long it was, I just told dad that we would join on the front and gather around and shout ‘yeah.’
So we did. We showed our support by going for coffee and biscuits and then going for the nicest chips in the world. Seriously, they were heavenly, but that’s another story. Anyway, we were early, and had to wait for them to walk to us. We waited around for a while and bought some drinks. We lingered by walls and ran away from pigeons, all the while I was telling dad about Taylor Swift’s new album. Four bottles of diet coke and a chocolate bar later, the front of the demonstration was visible. My view was clouded by a department store, but a lot of people were there.
After about half an hour everyone was standing outside the art gallery, in front of this old building where The Beatles dig holes*. At least I think that was the hall. Either way it was pretty, and there were those clouds in the sky that you can make pictures out of. While people spoke about how unfair things were I smiled and looked for a cloud that looked like a unicorn.
And then, as if out of nowhere, Mr Joe Anderson took the microphone. The unicorn cloud was no longer interesting, because Joe Anderson, or has he has now been branded, Shouty Joe, screamed what he was saying. He’s a motivational chap, and even though I don’t know what he actually does (dad called him leader of Liverpool council or something along those lines, so he must be important). I ‘yeah’-ed and cheered and clapped when the old man who was standing next to me did, because he seemed to know his stuff.
*This is a reference to the song A Day in The Life, The lyrics go
I read the news today oh boy
4 thousand holes in Blackburn Lancashire
And though the holes were rather small they had to count them all
Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert hall
This is wrong on every level, the Beatles didn’t dig the holes, the holes were not in the hall, but most importantly it wasn’t the Albert Hall.
We were outside George’s hall in Liverpool.
Shouty Joe went, and then Whispering Wilma or whatever, we don’t remember her because she was quiet and not as fun as Shouty Joe, so we left. If you are wondering about Cloudy the unicorn in the sky, he was still there.
So recently there have been more troubles, which is what I would use to describe the riots if this was 1806. The riots and lootings in the big cities have been all over the news. It made me question how good I would be in a loot.
I know I have a slight organisation problem, and nothing annoys me like when people do something stupid. I was watching a video of people looting, not out of choice, but the news and film finder are on the same screen (for those of you that care I was looking for The Last Song). There were people trying to lift a shutter which was fine. Then one man tried to smash it by throwing a brick. I found I was shouting at the TV about how ‘HE COULDN’T SMASH A BLOODY SHUTTER YOU DOZY HOOLIGAN’. When he didn’t hear me I was forced to abort my mission to find the film, and had to calm myself down by watching the Shopping channels.
I was proud of one man I saw. He was in a shop that was selling footwear and football shirts. I think it was one of those sports shops I have to pass to get to Next from Thornton’s. Anyway, he was picking up the shoes and checking the size, and seeing if he liked them. I was proud of this man. He was good. No one wants to get home to find that they have grabbed the wrong shoes and they don’t fit. Then you have to have the awkward conversation the next day when you attempt to return them.
“Do you have your receipt?”
“I didn’t get a receipt.”
“All sales come with a receipt.”
“Oh, Darling I didn’t buy them. I looted them. Do I have to return them to a looted store?”
It’s not good. But then I don’t think I would buy training shoes. This led to the thought, where would I loot. I like my clothes, but in the dark colours can be confused. I would be ashamed to get home and find that I have looted something blue. I don’t like blue because it does nothing for my skin tone. But anyway, I would prefer HMV, because I love my films and the Disney shop.
The Disney shop would be my first choice, though the looters might not enjoy going into the Disney shop and grabbing The Lion King teddy’s and Disney Princess figurines. Besides, knowing my luck I would end up with two Simba’s. What could I do with two Simba’s? I could do nothing, okay. Nothing can be done with two Simba’s!
Of course the nearest loot-able HMV and Disney shop near me are in Liverpool, and despite asking dad, explaining we needed to get their early to so we don’t end up with two Simba’s or miss all the Carrie Underwood CD’s (because Carrie is popular with the looter’s), he said no and told me to go and finish watching West Side Story. So I had to think closer to home, so somewhere in walking distance.
Then I decided against walking anywhere, so instead went to my room and read while listening to Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum.
I’m too slow anyway, so would end up with the things no one has wanted. I would come home with a broken toaster and a knock of iPod with enough memory for half a picture.
So I suppose, staying at home and watching the Disney Channel and then playing on IMDb is better for me.
One thing I did notice was the looting of corner shops. Really, what do they plan to loot from a corner shop? My corner shop‘s specialty is its own brand of cola, which tastes like someone just watered down Pepsi. The magazines even my mother turns her nose up to and the selection of alcohol could be found at a major supermarket anyway.
So if I did ever decide to loot some fake cola and a packet of Cadbury’s buttons from the corner shop, I wouldn’t just take them. I would be forced to go all out. I would want ten of every kind of chocolate and as much fake cola as my little arms could carry. I would need a basket.
A person carrying a basket is a rarity among those looting. I suppose I would be a first. Not a bad thing when you think about it. At least I would be on the TV. I would have the go in a nice dress and do my hair if I was going to be on the news.
Anyway got to go 400 hoodies will only wait so long for me to direct them, see you soon I have got 2 Simbas to trade.
TTFN
No comments:
Post a Comment