Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

The first part of this story is anecdotal and observational, it is what it is and nobody physically present would argue with the facts.

I lived on one side of a town, across the road was a corner shop, across the road and down a bit was a corner shop and news agents, opposite from that was the local chip shop, and a little further down from the news agents was the local pub, and opposite that was the local branch line railway station.

The fish and chip shop did some of the best cod and chips I have ever eaten, there was a guy and a woman out back and mainly up front was a fat girl called sarah, who was as efficient as a demon motherfucker at the whole taking orders / keeping track of orders and customers / making up orders thing.

It won awards every fucking year.

I used to go there on average once a week.

One day a few years later sarah was no longer up front serving, typically it took a minimum of two other people to do what fat sarah used to do, and being brutally honest two weren’t usually as good as she was on her own.. sometimes there were three serving.

There came a period where you weren’t sure who would be serving you, and quite often they were out of their depth.

I’d moved away across town by then so my visits became infrequent.

But staff churn was a thing, and then one day it dawned on me that the old guy out back was no longer there, there was just the woman.

Over the past three years I went more and more infrequently, we’re talking maybe once every six months, prices were going up, quality was going down, staff were fucking useless, to the point where nine months ago I said that’s it, no more.

Tonight I was returning from a long drive, I was tired, it was raining, I had a fair bit on my mind (I’d been filling a grave earlier) and muddy shoes and trousers, and I was passing that old chip shop, and I really fancied some fish and chips, so I went in.

Well, £8 fucking 25p for a large cod and chips and a tin of coke, well, ok, what the fuck, I’m here now, fuck it, there are two new servers up front, both gormless, and then the woman comes from out back, sends one of the staff across to the pub for change, and starts serving, and being as rude as fuck to people, like she was doing them a fucking favour serving them… it wasn’t even directed at me but I was thinking about saying fuck this shit give me my money back, next thing I know she is serving my order, I’m tired and hungry and she isn’t actually rude to me, just not pleasant, so fuck it I take it and go.

Now starts the commentary.

I used to eat everything but the paper, I left all the bottom batter, it wa inedible and hard, the fish was chewy and had lost its flavour, it wasn’t flaky and delicious and hot, it had obviously been sat in the hot shelf for an hour, and I ate about a third of the chips, they were also not fresh and basically fucking rubbish, in short it was one of the worst fish and chip meals I have had, ever… plus it was eight fucking pounds twenty five fucking pence.

The shop is the same, the equipment is the same, cod is still cod, spuds are still chips, the only constant is the woman, the only change is sarah and then the old guy went, and then staff started changing every time you went in.

For all I know sarah could have won the lottery and gone to australia, and the old guy could have died, I have no idea, I have no idea if the woman is suffering at the hands of fate and that has made her the way she is now, but my money is the woman is the problem, and always was, and now it’s a dog and pony show with a different dog every week, and so everything is down to the pony who is in charge.

I know I said before to myself don’t go back, but that was when it was just a case of the fish and chips were good, just not as good as they used to be, but had gotten bloody expensive….now, you couldn’t fucking pay me to go back, so farewell, adieu and good riddance P**** fish and chips.

Now the actual reasons why this chippie went to shit are somewhat unknown, I know what it looks like, but I do not have facts and forensic evidence at my disposal, just observation, so I could be wrong.

I do not think I am, I think what probably happened was one day the woman pissed sarah off enough she quit, then eventually the old guy said fuck it too, or who knows they could have been married and she divorced his ass and kicked him out, I dunno, I was just a customer, but when both sarah and the old man were gone, it just started to swirl around the pan on the way out, and I fully expect to see it closed or under new ownership within the year if todays “meal” is anything to go by.

For those who may think this is just old AfOR knocking da wimminz again, think again, sarah was the front man for the whole operation, a fat very plain girl, but incredibly good at her job, and very pleasant and jolly to deal with, and a fucking credit and gold standard to anyone as an employee and customer facing person etc etc.

Hell for a year there there were two muslim sisters who served who were head and shoulders above anyone else apart from sarah.

The old guy I never knew, some of the older local boys used to shout to him now and again…

Notably it used to be queued out the door with older customers and families buying up 6 portions of everything for an evening meal, lately it’s more and more younger people buying 1 portion or 2, and I think a lot of them are like me now, passing trade.

So to me observing all the facts and history, my conclusion is this woman was always the fucking squeaky wheel, it was just hidden in the past by the competence and ability of everyone else, and now her own shit is shining though, she can’t keep staff, she can’t keep customers, and she can’t keep only fresh made literally just out of the fryer fish and chips for sale, and there is a vicious circle going on with all that and her attitude.

Which all makes a nice counterpoint to me standing in the drizzle a couple of hours before that 100 miles away shovelling sodden clay into a grave.

Sadly, and disappointingly for my readers, you vicious bastards, “the deceased” had 4 legs, was going on 11 years old, and had cancer, so the owner did the right thing in ending the suffering, but the wrong thing in paying a fucking vet seventy five fucking quid to do it, for a shot of pentobarbital…

Now as you all know I pride myself on being a callous bastard, and in this case in particular this creature was not what I would call a dog in the first place, it was more of a rat, but it was a living creature for all that, so while it was not to my taste, I bore it no ill will

To be clear there are exceptions, I actively dislike cats, I do not see the point in them, but even there I would not be one to torture them to death or make them suffer, but they do make a good case for the .22 long rifle round IMHO.

But callous bastard aside, if you have 2 kids and 2 dogs and they are all around 10 years old then you’re talking about 4 family members, and I’m a little torn on the choice of which ones you would rather have die on you, and I do not feel any disdain or smirk when I hear of some guy (for it is usually guys) who lose the dog they have had since a puppy and get all broken up… I still very fondly remember my last dog but one, he was born 37 years ago now, and my last dog (stolen by the ex and then I have no clue what became of him, I believe he was sold on) was born 17 years ago, so I’m not quite as callous as I make out, even if I cannot clearly remember the actual loss of our first dog, who was poisoned by the chinese when I was 4 (the chinese don’t really like dogs, and tin thieves really don’t like dogs that bark) I do sort of vaguely remember this big camel coated beast that never seemed to be too busy to play with me.

So tonight I witness the owner, who is barely keeping things together, and it’s drizzling and slippery wet clay and all, so I say you go in, I’ll fill the hole in, and yes, I’ll do a little headstone for them, and some time later I wash my shoes off as best I can and go in for a coffee prior to leaving, and what do I see?

I see some kids who have basically only ever known this dog, the eldest would have been two when the dog came into the house as a puppy, the youngest came into a house where there was already a puppy, and none of them give a flying fuck, either about the lost “family member”, or the obviously broken up parental unit, one is off playing some shit on the playstation, one is talking to her little bitch mates on facetime, and one is stuffing her face with crisps and shit playing on a phone, me me me me me me me me me, not a single fucking bone of shred of empathy or compassion in any of them.

They are all modern little 21 century robots devoid of empathy and emotion and integrity, and as such at a stroke they went from being “my mate’s kids” who I’d look out for a do things for and generally act like an uncle to, to being how I see them now, fucking worthless meat puppets… I’m going to, in shades of avoiding the aforementioned chip shop, going to have to make a point of only ever visiting that mate when the worthless little cunts are at school.

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the whole experience troubled me enough I woke up after 4 hours sleep and have no desire to go back to sleep.

Now, for all I care the male children can turn into junkie thieves and the female children can turn into pre teen whores and skanks, and frankly they all deserve every last bit of shit coming their way, why should anyone else treat them with dignity or respect of empathy, ever.

Sure it’s easy to sit there and say getting on for 60 years of memories and rose tinted glasses and all that shit, your memory ain’t that good, and it is easy to sit there are say hey, cut the kids some slack, they may be hurting internally and just don’t know how to show it.

But I was there, and I cannot conceive of any other child in my experience not being absolutely heartbroken when a family pet they have literally known all their life dies, hell I remember kids who mourned the loss of hamsters and goldfish and shit, and none of those hold a fucking candle to a dog.

The bond between human and dog is special, and when I see what I saw today, which is some kids who are more interested in facetiming their fucking skanky friends and playing the games console while “uncle buck” is outside in the drizzle burying the family dog and the parental unit is sat in the kitchen trying to hold it together, then at a stroke those kids are no longer human to me.

Fuck em.

I’d put em down myself but their parent is my mate, so I had to draw the line at telling them their kids are worthless little fucks, so mourn that dog real good and remember them real well, because it was the only one of the bunch worth a damn… and never forget this day or their attitude.