You may think that only the intellectually bereft use lists for an article’s structure, however if Cracked.com has taught us anything, it’s that this is true. Admittedly, that wasn’t a good use of the word “however”. However, it stands.
There are many jobs in London that only the brave, intelligent, and strong charactered are up to doing. Yet those who undertake them are grouped in with Hitler and other unappreciated over achievers in our collective social judgement. People like …
6. Bus Drivers
In the old days when you could stand on a bus whilst it was moving to prepare to get off, we had an over abundance of people without broken necks. To remedy this TfL have hired lunatics. Admittedly I’ve only been witness to one concussion, but then everyone’s a bit more savvy now about what flies on the buses (and they’d rather it wasn’t them — ahaha, do you see what I did there? I made an internet funny).
This man is being arrested for impersonating a bus — But first the anal probe
To be fair, bus drivers have to deal with many, many, retards. I’m not talking about the five minute wait for that ramp thing to slide out for wheelchairs, I’m talking about real retards. The type who think that they have super-human speed, and so can walk by the driver fast enough for him not to notice they didn’t pay. The type who will glass you to prove to their friends that they’d glass you. They have a righteous indignation from having to use public transport (their Porsche’s obviously in the garage), and they’re going to express it as eloquently as they can to the bus driver, i.e. they will try to throw McDonalds milkshake through the protective glass barrier.
It takes great character to shrug off such rudeness and continue to be someone who resembles a mammal in some way to the other 90% of your customers. Great character. … Yeah, you see where I’m going with this. £200 a week including overtime isn’t really going to catch the cream of the crop. What we have then are people who either quit after two weeks and keep their sanity, or, well, or the people who currently drive your bus.
This situation is very similar to that of …
5. Teachers
Okay so this one’s a reach out to the yoot out there, ’cause I want to be hip. Love me, yoot of London, Twitter me, or whatever it is that’s fashionable this week. Peas out.
Bat. Crap. Crazy. Every teacher you ever had at school.
The reasons are similar to those above, except children, gods bless them, have as yet absolutely no idea where the line is, what it looks like, or why the hell they should care. If you had to deal with kids coming up to you and calmly placing gum in your hair, blank faced and expressionless a la children of the corn; or not being able to teach CDT properly because you’re scared a kid might get a hacksaw in his face, again; or getting in trouble because one of them refuses to come watch the experiment since he’s busy smoking a big fatty — well you might try to secretly infect them all with smallpox too (and yes all these things happened at my school).
When reminiscing about the good old school days, a common measure of how much more fun you had than your friends is how many more nervous breakdowns your year caused.
This phenomenon is not exclusive to London, but it does seem to be worst here.
Hahaha you're an idiot!
Did you ever wonder why some teachers teach when they obviously hate children so much? It’s for revenge. They record every sigh and groan children give at hearing about homework then play it back at home with a sherry in one hand, a cigar in the other, dressed in a burgundy smoking jacket, manically laughing like a James Bond villain. When they get a particularly good recording, say of a kid actually crying, they have parties where a teacher will invite the whole faculty over. They laugh until they vomit.
They hate you.
One hand is shackled from an inept “education” system, the other by not being able to beat your child senseless like it deserves. No wonder they’re bitter.
4. Free Newspaper Men
“WRONDON RITE?!”
Going into central London will grant you your wish of having this shouted at you several times in varying accents.
These free-paper delivery people will stand defiantly in the flow of the busiest street, at the busiest point, seemingly itching for a kick in the face. Observing passers by, I noticed three main ways we deal with them:
- Ignore: I’ll look straight ahead, that way they’ll know that I’m not interested, and get that paper out of my way before I get to it.
- Passive-aggressiont: If I stare at them in the eyes, they will surely move out of my way. I am menacing and strong. My girlfriend tells me so.
- KICK IN THE TEETH!: This never happens. You just wish it did. I see it in your eyes.
All of these tactics have the same effect: none. The little chap will continue to smile, as he stretches the paper in your path, moving it just in time for it not to actually touch you as you walk past. Tomorrow. Tomorrow you will beat one of them to death, you will.
Paid for papers have a higher quality of journalism
After trying to talk to one of them, I was amazed to discover that he was not only human, but was actually a nice guy. The trouble is they need to get these papers out as quickly as possible, and the best place to do it is in your face as you’re struggling through the crowds to get a Starbucks Crapabeano.
After graduating from FreePaperHandOutCollage India, they came here with a scholarship from Murdoch himself, to hand out free papers at the prestigious and world (India) renowned; That Busy Corner on Oxford Street. That is to say; they didn’t. Is it possible then that they’re doing the best they can with the limited skills they possess in order to bide time and gather money for something better?
No. No they’re dirty foreigners you’re right. You can tell they’re dirty because they’re brown.
And there end the jobs I can actually defend. Hit the next page for the three jobs that just attract arsebuckets of the highest calibre.
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Can we add The Elderly to the list. Also Tha Kidz. And poor people too, obviously.
As an ex driver I can concur…they are twats. Adding passengers (from my point obviously) would be great, or what would be better is a sweeping generalisation of the public as a whole. Whole lot of what – the jury is still out and being bribed in an alley – we don’t know. Please add cyclists to your list, and please point me in the direction of a shop where I can purchase a horn for my car that simply says ‘Get out of my way before you end a bonnet ornament’. Who is Fred Jones?
He doesn’t exist!