Stockton on Tees
Amenities: Chip shops
My home town of Stockton on Tees, in Cleveland. The man who invented matches was from there, you know. Local torpor can be seen symbolised in the fact that railways were invented there, and they couldn’t even be arsed to make a theme park out of that.
Having moved out at the earliest possible opportunity, I was able to see Stockton through the world’s eyes on bringing my poncy new London mates up to visit one weekend. The evening featured a PA from the Swedish breakdancing champion at a local nite spot, and climaxed in a traditional visit to a late night chip shop, where the Rubenesque girl in front of us ordered chips, chops, cabbage, gravy and mushy peas, and whiled away the time while her order was being prepared by screaming to her mate, (who was down the end of the street with some pustuled consort): ” ‘Ave you shagged ‘im yet, Nicola?”
It could be worse, you may say. It is. It’s just that if I think too hard about it, I start to feel somehow… dirty. I do hope none of you are ever required to visit.