22 Struggles Of Growing Up In A Crap British Town
How can there be that many different types of pound shop?
Most of the buildings in your town “centre” were made of concrete.
And you had one big roundabout that everyone was terrified of driving round.
But driving was the only way to get around, because your buses were shit and ludicrously overpriced, and only came about twice a day.
All the bus shelters were mainly places for slightly scary local teens to smoke.
If you had a train station, it was exceedingly bleak.
There was a popular nearby fly-tipping spot.
And a really creepy subway that you were terrified of walking through at night.
But you had one quite nice view that was the only bit shown on the council website.
Your high street had more charity shops than anyone could ever need.
There was a shop with bins, washing up bowls, and miniature garden chairs carefully displayed on the pavement outside.
And your town wasn’t nice enough for a Poundland, so you had some rip-off versions.
There was always one really random retailer in your high street, and nobody could understand how it made any money.
And it was probably stuck between a load of boarded-up shops.
But there was still one really run-down department store.
There was great excitement whenever some new representation of civilisation opened in the high street.
And there was probably a lot of local hype when a Tesco opened nearby.
Your town was inexplicably twinned with somewhere abroad that sounded quite fancy.
The local market sold mostly tiger blankets and phone cases.
Along with loads of knock-off clothing brands.
For entertainment you could go to the nearest cinema, which was definitely in the middle of a massive car park.
Or you could hang around the bottle bank with more intimidating local teens.
And you could always visit the local “flat-roof pub” if you fancied a really ~interesting~ night.
But while it was pretty shit, it was almost worth it for the local paper headlines.
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