Friday, 11 September 2009

Judgey Judge

So I work in a little area called the "Square Mile" in London - renowned for the hundreds of banks that play with our money and law firms that bust them for doing so. This area is built on money... or the illusion/ mirage of money.

Anyone who knows me knows that my greatest attributes are lost working in the square mile at a stuffy law firm... but it pays the bills... so I hate that I love the square mile and I love to hate it!!!

This place is full of mostly suited men that on any random lunch time you can see becoming more red in the face and pOtted in the belly as they loiter laughing and shouting outside any one of the abundant bars/pubs in the area. I refer to them as "fat cats" and I pretty much think most of them are... hmmm... let me think... how would you say... oh i know... PATHETIC!

"Warning - sweeping comment follows"

I'm sure there are some good people working here but then there are so many bad ones driven by greed. Their greed crossed with society's acceptance and humouring of it contributed to the wonderful "Credit Crunch" of 2008 and then in close succession the "Recession" of 2009.

I resent not only the greedy sods whose love of money has lead to our economic downturn but also working in such close proximity to them. As I go to work every day on the tube the carriage begins to fill with more and more suits and I mentally... and sometimes physically... scowl at them as they steal seats on benches that are clearly designed for 3 people to sit on... which they seem to think only cater for two fat cats at best... while us lovely ladies stand and fend off the pages of the broadsheet Financial Times that threaten to papercut us! "Insert huff and puff of frustration here"

So yesterday I managed to get a seat and from my high horse I scowled as a fat cat stumbled onto the train nearly elbowing people in the head as he opened his Financial Times - I judged him. I moved my gaze along the carriage ready to take down my next victim with my piercing glare and there he was another suit, reading, except it wasn't the peachy pages of the Financial Times in his grasp... no no no... it was... brace yourself... Twilight!!!

I came off my high horse with that one