November 14, 2004

Story Time

Seeing as someone commmented on my last entry yesterday, I thought I'd write something else. A little explanation may be required first, however. I come from a little town near Newcastle, where we call the pikeys/townies/chavs 'charvas'. When the charvas are speaking in his story, try to put it in your best fake Geordie accent. Lord knows that's what they do. Anyway, shut up Sam, get on with it.

This little event took place when I was at school, in year 11, I think. I'm not sure how we managed this deal, but the head of sixth form used to let us eat our packed lunches in his classroom in the sixth form block at dinnertime. There was two doors into this room, one that took you into a corridor thingy past the common room and out of the block into the middle of the school, and one that faced out onto the football fields. Since walking around the blocks to get from one place to another was a bit of a hike, cutting through this classroom must have been pretty popular back in the days when it was allowed. We were told that no-one was allowed to but through, and in fact the door leading to the fields was to stay shut and we weren't allowed to touch it to let anyone in. So we never did.
It was some time during the summer, we had the windows open and were enjoying a nice game of coinsy (maybe I'll put the rules to this up sometime, it's a good game), when the orange faces of half a dozen charva lasses appeared at the window. In their best high-pitched whine, the leader spoke through her left nostril: 'how man, open the door 'n lerruz in how'. To which we explained that we weren't allowed to, and they'd have to walk around. She screeched: 'here man ya ****s, ya better ****ing lerruz in now'. And still, we told them to walk round, and that we'd get in trouble if we were to open the door. 'Fine then' she squawked, 'I'll come in through the ****ing window then'. Fine by us, we replied.
And so, slowly, awkwardly, this stick-thin little waste of carbon clambered in through the open window, talking care not to catch her 99p gold hoop earrings or her fringe on the frame. It was something to behold, really. I don't imagine it was easy, wearing those thick-heeled shoes. But she did it. She sneered at us triumphantly. She'd won. They were going to cut through. We couldn't stop them. They were invincible. 'Howay lasses', she called to her greasy cohorts. And one by one, the rest of them climbed through the window. It must've taken a good five minutes for them all to wriggle through that window. We just sat and watched, trying to supress a smirk. When they were all in, they called us some names, and off they went. Turning back to our rudely interrupted game, my friend asked 'so why didn't the first one open the door so the rest of them could come in?' Why indeed.


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