itz snot ri, ri?

The cute blonde girl opposite me sat down, fished out her mobile and called her friend Shaz. It was a conversation almost devoid of any kind of glottal stop. Also missing were most forms of punctuation, verb, adverb and, I think, all pronouns.

The call was conducted in the accent that is being labelled as ‘Estuary English’.

After she and Shaz had exchanged sufficient anecdotes about how ‘wikd’ they were yesterday, they evidently went on to detail how much ‘snoggin’, ‘feelin-up’ and – inevitably – ‘fukin’ they had both got up to last night.

But soon even Blondie had reached her conversational limit (sadly, though, not reached as quickly as my hearing limit had been), she hung up.

Only to dial another number. I shuddered with uneager anticipation but when the call was answered she said…

‘Oh hello Daddy. Is Mummy there please? Hello Mummy. I’m on my way home. I stayed in London last night so I could buy you both a present, but I’m feeling really unwell so I’m on my way home.’

And it was delivered in a flawless received pronunciation with elocution-perfect enunciation.

I nearly fell off me arse, I did.

Anyway, blondie has a cold, apparently.

I wonder if the fact that her smock-top is so low-cut that I can see her bra has anything to do with her contracting the cold? I mean I can see the little black bow on her pink and black bra – the little black bow that sits on the underwired bit that is right at the base of both cups, if you know what I mean?

That’s not too low-cut for a day when the outside temperature is struggling to reach 6c, is it?

She’s got a scarf too, bless her.

And a pair of brown Fugly boots and black leggings. And of course the aforementioned (grey) smock-top. And a navy cardigan which actually doesn’t have any buttons, so she can’t do it up. That’s useful, isn’t it? Mmmm.

Blondie is about 17. I wonder what her Mummy and Daddy would think about her almost bi-polar existence?

B.