I mean, this isn't fucking Los Angeles, so why the hell do people want everything to be so different? Why do things have to be written in neon, covered in cheap plastic, and written in ten different languages, so foreigners – God bless them – can understand what I sell, and what they can eat? The world's gone fucking mad, but if you want to survive, so you've got enough money to retire on, you've got to follow the crowd.
I'm too old for this new stuff, which is why I think the old days were the best. You know, people would come into the pub, buy a drink, smoke a cigarette, and have a chat. Perhaps they would then buy another drink, have another cigarette, and then be on their way. I sold beer or spirits, and wine by the glass was unheard of, because people in south-east London didn't drink wine back then. Food was a packet of peanuts or nothing at all, and certainly not salmon, new potatoes and a green salad. But it's all changed, and because I'm old and too slow to keep up with things, I really wish that I was no longer here.
Sid, the landlord of our local pub, having to deal with change. Extract taken from "The Londoners" - by Luke Ryman.
Once I joined the main road I knew that my days of fun and laughter were slowly coming to an end. I was just a few minutes from the industrial estate, and the biscuit factory in which I was going to work, to keep Jill happy, and prove that I wasn't an idle bastard. I spat on the ground as I walked the last few hundred metres of freedom, until I turned the corner, and walked into the estate where the factory was situated. It was then that I knew that Dave Cooper was about to write a new chapter in his life. And that chapter would be the one which would cover my descent into depression and misery, after having spent four years enjoying myself, in a wonderful state of unemployment.
Dave Cooper heading towards his first day at work. Extract taken from "The Londoners" - by Luke Ryman.
Tony moved closer to Tammy, and stroking her arm, he asked her if she was cold, as she had just come out of the pool. I looked at Tony and then at Tammy. How the hell could anything that fat feel the cold? Even if it had been minus thirty inside, with a blizzard battering us head on, Tammy had enough blubber to keep her body temperature at where is should have been. But I could see that Tony had fallen for Tammy, and he was only doing what men in that situation always do, if they want to keep the woman of their dreams in their lives.
Tony Joy is in love with a fat girl from Florida. Extract taken from "An American Adventure" - By Luke Ryman