creamygoodness

Love. It's a funny old game isn't it?

I was sitting at the bus stop on my way back home today when I saw something that really got to me. A young couple, extremely chavish, he's in a hoodie and baseball cap, she looks like a hurricane ripped through a JJB Sports and the Debenhams makeup counter, not unattractive but you'd never tell under the layers of glistening foundation. He was brow-beating her up and down the bus stop for, as far as I could tell, walking away from him or something equally petty. What broke my heart was her timidity as she stood there and meekly took his abuse quitly whimpering things like 'Yes, I do wanna be wiv you.' as he snarled away with such charming lines as 'Don't treat me like a fucking kid, you walk away from me again, I'm gonna fucking hurt you.'

I had a vision into her life at that point: She still lives at home with her parents who bicker and fight endlessly. If there was any love between them now it's hidden under all the lazy spite and animosity. She works somewhere like Boots, not going anywhere and lacking the drive or education to do anything more. She probably has some vague, generic ambitions like working 'in fashion'. Then there's the men. A long string of absolute pondscum, all so utterly undeserving of respect that they seem to hoard what meagre scraps of it they can scavenge, snarling and snapping like a dog that's had it's food bowl taken away at even the slightest perceived affront to it's carefully constructed facade of vicious, bullying machismo.

The saddest thing is that she'll probably never know any better. I wanted desperately at that moment to lift her above this and show her a better world, to take her away from Blazin Squad, Burberry and screeching arguments outside the Wetherspoons at chucking-out time. I wanted to show her the instant camaraderie with complete strangers at a Dropkick Murphy's gig just because they spotted you singing along to their favourite song, I wanted her to spend an evening at The Ship, to see the genuine warmth and affection between good friends, the friendly ribbing without the undertones of spite and insecurity.

I didn't though. What I did was get on the bus and drive away, watching them shrink into the distance.

I did, however, then spot something to swing me up out of 'despairing for humanity' to 'moodily introspective'. Another couple on the bus, equally chavvish, she's not a attractive as she might seem, with hair dyed a shocking blonde with brown bits at the end, kind of like having your roots show only the other way round, a little too much jewellry but still a pretty girl, he's as nondescript as the rest of his species: too much sportswear and a baseball cap. What cheered me up though was that they seemed to be almost the complete opposite of the first couple. They had an easygoing chemistry between them that was infectious, putting a smile on my face as I glanced out the window. She was bubbly and playful, bouncing around in her seat, continually leaning in for a bit of a cuddle or to plant little kisses all over his cheeks. Meanwhile he had a relaxed, laconic 'seen it all before' attitude to him, taking his girlfriend's exuberance with a pinch of salt and a handful of affection. Much as I might play up to the sarcastic embittered loser role sometimes for laughs, I've never been the bitter single type. Seeing two people with such affection and warmth for each other makes me happy, even if I haven't had anything like that for a while now, and so it was that I got onto the bus with a slight lift to my step, a little cheerier than I was when I got on.

So yeah. Love. Funny old game, eh?