Jamie Stewart
“Me, I want to kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over until it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more bloody important than being right.” (David Mitchell, Black Swan Green, Page 149.)
Here are two true stories, that I have witnessed with my own eyes, over the past week. Names have been invented, but the events are true, all the same.
1- Aussie Jonny is an Australian, middle aged, male, living in London. He has been in the city for 4 years after arriving on a working holiday visa, and forgetting to ever leave. Tonight, Jonny is out having a drink with friends from work in a pub. He has never been inside the place before, but finds it quite welcoming. After a few drinks, Jonny decides to order a burger and chips from the bar. Though the hour is late, Jonny decides he must eat.
Manda is a young Polish girl. She has been working on the bar for two weeks. Jonny places his order with Manda. He does not appreciate the response: “I am sorry. The kitchen is closed.” Jonny is having none of it. He’s been at work until 6pm goddamit! He hasn’t had time to eat yet, because he has been too busy drinking. “What? You don’t have anything? No chips? Not even some wedges? Anything?” Manda: “I’m sorry. It is getting very late and the chef must begin cleaning up. We cannot stay open all night.” Jonny is fuming, he is seething. Who does this young girl think she is, denying him his chips? “You know what?” says Jonny, looking Manda in the eye, despite the queue of people forming behind him. “This is nothing but bad service. Really bad.” And with that, Jonny walks away, turning to offer one last glance of dissaproval at the young Polish girl.
At no point does it dawn on Jonny, that direct criticism of somebody, when they are doing their best to help you and those around you, is in fact, really quite hurtful. But then why should it? Jonny sees before him not a human being, who hurts the same as you or me, but a young girl, paid only to attend to his needs. Such is the lot of the service industry employee. In fact, Manda has been in the country for only a month. She moved to London alone, to pursue a better life. She was brought up as part of a family of 9 in Poland, and there was rarely any money to be wasted on luxeries. Manda seeks only the chance to lead a normal, happy life, and the freedom to chase her dreams. Whatever they may be.
2- Everyday Paul drives the three miles from his home in East London into Central London to his place of work. Despite the mass of trafic on the road, despite the new found environmental awareness present in his do-gooder colleagues, despite the congestion charge to enter the city, despite all of these things, Paul still drives to work, because he is paid a sizeable wage, and can afford it.
Despite even the stress surrounding the daily journey, and it is a stressful journey for Paul. Other drivers seem so impatient these days, they are forever cutting him up, barging infront of him, causing no end of delays with their over cautiousness. God knows how they ever got their licences in the first place. Taxi drivers these days seem to think they own the road as well, just because they spend all day tearing up and down the filthy streets. Busses- mate, do get Paul started on busses. If he could add up the number of hours he’s spent staring at the back end of a bus…and that’s before he’s even gotten out of bed in the morning. But today, there is a new hazard in town. Thank the green lobby for this one as well…the cyclist.
Paul glides smoothly out of the junction with London Bridge Road, heading south. It’s been an OK journey so far. It’s raining, which pleases Paul in a way. He likes to see the pedestrians and the cyclists getting soaked. They’re a hazard anyway. He can’t help it if they can’t afford to drive to work like he can. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a young cyclist veers infront of him, attempting to change lanes. Paul cannot believe the cheek of this guy. Cutting infront of him! Paul reacts, he revs the engine, blasts the hooter. The cyclist has nowhere to go, he peddles as fast as he can, but is stuck between lanes, with traffic either side, bumper to bumper. 50 yards on, at the next set of traffic lights, Paul gets his chance. He pulls up alongside the young cyclist, and winds down his window. Safe within the confines of his metallic cage, he shouts through the rain:
“OI! MATE! What the f*** do you think you’re doing hey? Blocking off the lane like that? Yeh..I’m talking to you.” The cyclist, dripping wet, is averting his gaze. He is visibly uncomfortable. Afraid even, at this unpredictable stranger. Paul carries on regardless. “Next time I’ll run you off ya f****** bike, ya loser.” And with that, the lights change, and Paul is away. The cyclist pulls away also. Slower this time. Much slower.
At no point does it occur to Paul that his comments, and the style with which they were delivered, could be a little hurtful to somebody less aggressive, or less stressed, than himself. The cyclist is a 16 year old Italian boy, living in London with his uncle. His was riding to the sandwich shop where he works a 40 hour week for minimum wage, to fund his studies in English. He hopes one day to work for a big company too, just lke the men and woman he makes sandwiches for all day long. But hey- one step at a time.
The extract at the top of this posting, from David Mitchell’s excellent book ‘Black Swan Green’, is one of the most accurate quotes I have come across in contemporary fiction. ‘Black Swan Green’ views the world through the eyes of a child, in the same vein as the Harper Lee classic ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. The quote above is as relevant to life today, as it could ever be. I’d like to know, if the child in question, once he had reached adulthood, would remember saying such a thing…Please bare it in mind.
By: Julija Norvidaite
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