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En Lancastre
I got a "final notice" several weeks ago. Can't take them seriously now.
Well send me to fucking prison then. I would welcome it. I'd be OK in prison.
Most people I know can only talk to their own class. I can both talk common, and laughingly tinkle my glass with PhDers, academics, writers, engineers, because I belong to both cultures. Common people are much better at talking to educated people than the other way round. My family are dirt poor, never owned any property, but my Mum's really bright, and I am daily glad of my genetic and social inheritance. I've been in jail before and it's nothing to be feared.
In town today I was going around the charity shops looking for trousers, but the only thing I could find was a lovely old Penguin of The Canterbury Tales. It's funny, drunken, hedonistic, anti-clerical.
My Belgian Beer Tasting went well. The upstairs room at the Pizza Margherita: fairy lights snaking up plants, tall lamps in purple shades. We even turned a small profit, although I'm not doing it to make money.
Trina was efficiently helpful. She stood at the back behind a wee counter, pouring the beer out and washing the glasses and presenting me with a bit of what we were drinking while I intoduced the beers wth a bit of historical background and the odd anecdote of my own time in Belgium. Not a lot though. No-one wants to hear your own story.
We had a long chat on the phone today saying how helpful it'd be if her 92-y-o mother could have a heart attack and just die and stop asking her daughter to look after her half the week. If I could get away with it, I'd kill her. Her mother goes on and on and on about how she hates being old. Well kill yourself then if it's that onerous.
6 comments
jail. three meals a day plus a guaranteed hour of exercise. there are worse things, i suppose. my father had the gift of omni-class communication. he was born dirt poor. i think you’re right that it’s much easier for ‘dirt poor’ to bridge the chasm to ‘educated/wealthy’ than the converse.
oh, and gh6f1a6w4r? go home. you are drunk.
It would only be for a week or so, then they’d off my back and this whole saga would be over. I’d just tell people I was going away for a bit somewhere, which would be true!
They won’t do that though–it’s a civil offence, not a criminal one. It only becomes one if you wilfully refuse to pay. I haven’t at any point refused to pay this debt. I am happy to contribute to cost of the services the County and City provides. But I’ve the bailiff’s letter rejecting my offer to pay it off in instalments and I can’t give them money I haven’t got.
gh6f1a6w4r was a spammer, btw. Spam’s increasing again and getting though b2evolutions’s almsot useless antispam plugin.
You might be okay in prison but I’ll bet you’d break a heart.
Chaucer beats trousers any day of the week. Twice on Sundays.
Your sentiments about Granny are nothing more than the expressed thoughts that we all keep to ourselves. When my mom developed health issues and died shortly thereafter, I was secretly relieved that we weren’t pulled down into bankruptcy.
And there’s nothing wrong in being relieved that that’s what happened.
Trina’s Mum’s got no quality of life at all. Her mind’s gone and so has something else, which makes looking after her a really unpleasant and messy business. People are living too long nowadays. I’ve got a book called Final Exit, which tells you how to top yourself painlessly when the time’s right. Trouble is, dementia is gradual–there’s never a time when you wake up and you’re suddenly very different from how you were before.
And break a heart? I wouldn’t tell Trina–she’d get all worried and anxious and would pay my fine off to spring me early. I don’t want that. I’d make up a story beforehand about why I was staying in the Queen’s Hotel for a bit and get a reliable, calm friend, to send the email as soon as I was taken down.
I’m not going to jail though–it rarely happens in these cases. Magistrates are conservative creatures who want to rar-rar-rar with their Masonic chums in the golf club, not have to explain themselves for exceptional sentencing decisions.
The idea of paying off small debts with prison time is intriguing. If you haven’t done anything wrong, could you apply to be imprisoned in exchange for income? Is that what Chris Huhne has done? Nice place without distracting women and with free access to narcotics to write your memoirs? Would you get an open prison?
Yes, it’s a strange idea, putting people in prison, which costs £700 a week or something, and then letting them off with their debts. Surely the C18th century idea was more just (in theory), where you had to be confined to quarters until you’ve paid them off.
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