Thursday 1 March 2012 – As I get older, I find I’m becoming more annoyed by things that previously registered no emotion within me. (Perhaps, I’m destined to become a grumpy old git). Anyway, today I’m walking along the street minding my own, when in a shop doorway, stand three young Polish ladies; I assume they’re Polish as the shop says Polski Sklep, and the language they are speaking sounds, how I imagine Polish sounds.
The reason these ladies attract my attention is because they are smoking, or rather two are. As I approach the third one takes a cigarette out of its packet and casually tosses the empty packet onto the pavement; as she lights her cigarette, the two who are smoking finish theirs and drop the butts onto the ground, before grinding them into the pavement with their heels.
The ironic thing is, on the lamp post next to the shop is a sign warning of an £80 fine for people who drop cigarette butts.
Later today, I’m walking through the park and see two men who both look eastern European walking towards me. ‘Running Away’ by Maverick Sabre is playing, his faux Jamaican tones bouncing around inside head. One of the men is reading a loose leaf file, and as he walks he’s tearing out pages that he obviously has no interest in, and is letting them flutter to the ground behind him. I count seven pages of A4 paper, blowing along the path before he passes me, and as he does; another page is torn out and dropped at my feet.
Now I’m not adverse to migration, I’d be a hypocrite if I said I was, but I am incensed when people feel they can enter another country and act in such an appalling way.