Week 23 – Welcome Home, Slumdog

In the words of Akala, “it’s not a rumour”, I actually made it home.  In one piece was an added bonus.
Life of a revolutionary, huh.
So naturally, went to see Slumdog Millionaire at the cinema.  But forget the favelas, this is real poverty.  As a friend of mine pointed out, the Who wants to be a millionaire? scenes were obviously just a commercialisation ploy to win over the masses, but we want to be cultured yes we want to be cultured and the pictures from India were excellent and insightful to say the least.
If you think that sounds middle-class and you’re not happy about it, you will love this next story.
One change I’ve noticed in my mind-set between before I left and now upon arriving is that I used to think there was no real British “culture”, but now it’s presence has become so blatant to my eyes, and I well love it.
Part of this culture is to gate-crash parties and then find out how wack they are (my parties are sick so don’t test it), so here’s what happens when a disabled person does this…
Random girl from North London (who can’t handle the ghetto), rolls her eyes in my direction.  Fifi says, “Yeah?”
“Can you get him out of here…”
“What do you mean get him out of here?”
“No no what I meant was you all need to lea-“
“What are you talking about, why would you pick one person out a whole grou…” etc. etc. etc.
Beef.  Ting.
Next thing that happens, as we are leaving the house, I see someone pushing Fifi in the back as she is walking down the stairs…
“What are you doing son?”  (OK, he’s at least mid-20s, it is scientifically impossible for him to be my son).
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. My. House.”
“I’m disabled.”
“Ah ah I’m sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know sorry sorry…”
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
If you want to be a complete wasteman, at least stick to your guns.  Why would it be OK to say that kind of rudeness to anyone?
I can’t write my response because of censorship, but it went along the lines of… “Yeah you dickhead…”
The funny thing is that my friends actually get offended, which obviously is really sweet, but I just start laughing.  Honestly.  How can you not find these one-step-away-from-an-amoebas hilarious?
When we came out the cinema, this couple were talking to us, and then as we left I paused and stood up to adjust my trousers, only to hear…
“Oi!  What a cheat, he just stood up, I f***ing saw him!”
Jokes.
In other news, my shoes still have holes in them, thus producing a stark contrast between my heart which is soulful, and my feet which are soleless.
“Nice to see you again, London.”
“Welcome home, Slumdog.”

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