My country of birth is going down the tunnel into oblivion, in my humble opinion. It is like being lost in space. Independence, freedom of speech, and just being accepted used to be everyday living!
From the freedom and independence of living in a country which once boasted an exchange rate of US$2 for every sterling pound, it is not only losing traction against the Euro but living values have about turned for the worst.
With lots of immigration totaling around 28,000 official, 2021 statistics for refugees coming from diverse countries (double if we consider the illegal volume crossing the channel from France) and being pushed out by other European countries to the United Kingdom, often without identity documents – I.D. of any kind, England turns a blind eye and accepts them into society.
It wouldn’t be so bad if they shared the same values, showed the same courteous ways, and adapted to what born and bred Brits take as standard practice. After listening to some peoples reasoning, and my own recent experiences I am glad I’ve relocated.
Many of the United Kingdom’s population are conservative and prefer to maintain those values Britain is beknown for such as looking after their own. Those whose parents and grandparents fought in the world-wars often suffered injury and disorders, and for some they would turn in their grave if they saw London today.
Many of those people are well looked after by social services with accommodation and pay-outs. Tax payers often complain about it. Violence has escalated ten-fold since there is no method to verify if these outsiders are accepting the English way of life, or ultimately have other agendas like the death stabbings and suicide bomber incidents.
With globalization in full swing, it is easy to get involved in others’ problems. It isn’t as much a dig at other nations, their ethnic background, religion, or beliefs, but more how they adapt to the culture of a foreign land. The problem as I see it is wanting to stay true to your beliefs if you are not prepared to mingle with a host country and try to abide by their customs. After all, when visiting a foreign land, the key is to follow the customs of those who live on it.
Just a few days ago, I went into a well-known high street store in Sutton, Surrey, picked up a couple of items, paid, and then continued on shopping to purchase a Sure anti-perspirant spray in the same shop.
A foreign security guard had been following me around the store. Maybe my Lonsdale hooded top, not up, had caught his fancy. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he had seen me pay for the first two items. However, when the third item had been purchased, he stopped me as I was about to leave the store.
He wanted to see in my bag, so I asked him, for what? He wanted to make sure that I was not stealing. This wasn’t the usual attention I would expect from such a retailer that has been around since before I was born. Seeing as he confronted me, I told him sternly to lift up his mask to cover his face!
Seething, he insisted to harass me. The bag was from another store, so I hardly thought it prudent that I had to show him the inside of my bag. It was his authoritative manner of asking that got my blood boiling as if I’m a common criminal.
After much bullying and having the store’s woman manager come over to support him, I reluctantly was obliged to show that what I had bought had a receipt to prove it. I had done nothing wrong. Eventually, on leaving I raised my voice to say that under these methods of interrogation for making simple purchases that I wouldn’t be buying there again.
A few days on and my mum asked me to purchase three items for her house. I went for the third or fourth occasion to a recently opened new branch from a supermarket chain. A pound coin was used to borrow a single level trolley outside the entrance that suited my purposes of buying those few items.
The store was busy with consumers, some 30% maskless, and employees also not wearing facial protection during the Omicron outrage that has seen over 200,000 people a day test positive in England. Apart from being busy at the cashiers they only had one of the three items I required, so I decided to leave.
Being near I decided to leave via the entrance, as queues for the way out were heavily congested with shoppers. No problems were encountered and a smooth exit to return the trolley made life easier. That was until a foreign security guard suddenly approached me to complain about leaving via the entrance’s automatic doors.
His aggressive manner to intimidate made me feel uncomfortable, so I tried to ignore him to stay calm. Afterall, I hadn’t caused anyone any grief or inconvenience. As he went on maskless in my face, I asked him to put his mask on. He said he was exempt, so I asked him to validate it by showing me a document. He had nothing, so clearly, he lied!
He insisted in reprimanding me, so after weighing up the whole situation brusquely I told him to fuckoff. He wouldn’t. I started shaking from being treated like a schoolboy, and then he proceeded with his uncalled-for preaching. We exchanged a few heated words and then I felt the need to swear at him once more.
In the end, I summoned the store manager, named Amir, to share my dismay by the security guard’s lack of diligence and his callous methods. Finally, on leaving the establishment I felt my whole-body continue juddering while outraged from his attitude.
I felt like a foreigner in my own country!
Written by Carl Boniface
Seething (on the boil)