A quick chat with a friend on one of the control terminals, while I’m waiting for the kettle to boil, yields a disgusting sight. On a council CCTV monitor on the wall, on a busy Saturday night, a close in view of a couple sitting on the pavement outside a pub, clearly off their faces, and trying to prepare some kind of powder for consumption. It’s comical in a sad sort of way, watching them barely able to sit without falling over and trying to do something requiring fine motor skills with an expensive substance. I don’t know what it is, obviously, it could be cocaine, could be spice, but I know it’s not sherbet.
One takes his phone out and they use the screen as a flat surface to line up their purchase. One quick snort each and you’d think it would be all gone, but no! Even drug takers are reacting to austerity and adapting. The female takes the phone and licks the screen to get the last of it. Eeeew. As we’re simply overrun with pub violence at kicking out time, we can’t send anyone before they’ve finished taking it, at which point they’re more likely to be an issue for the ambulance service than us.
This squalid little scenario is probably repeated a thousand times across town on a Friday or Saturday night, but rarely quite so publicly. Sad that four billion years of evolution leads to this occasionally. I spoke to a friend at work recently, who’s wife qualified as an accountant, but moved to teaching as after 6 years of working with spreadsheets, she decided she’d prefer to deal with human beings. Unfortunately, after 6 years of dealing with human beings such as these, I long ago realised the opposite.
