Petition Day

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DSC_1454Ding-dong, the door bell goes, so I go and answer. Whether I’d sign her petition, the lady wonders. It’s against an application for change of use of the Studio office block nearby, which is to be converted into an alcohol and drugs centre – her words, not mine! No, she sais, she doesn’t know what that means either, but she thinks it could describe a place for rehabilitation and treatment, and fears that even ex-offenders might frequent it. Again, her words, not mine.

You hypocritical little weasel, I think to myself, and explain that I shall not sign her petition. Converting a run-down office block with dubious tenants into a place of rehabilitation and treatment is a fine thing, I explain, and petitioning against something while not even knowing what it means is hugely disagreeable. I suspect, I continue telling her, that in reality she is protesting against anything which might happen because it might happen on her doorstep.

I deny politely and close the door, and wish I hadn’t been quite so polite. What a hypocritical weasel, really! I can’t comprehend what kind of society people want, if it doesn’t include rehabilitation and treatment for those in need of such things. I find this mindset objectionable and highly antisocial.

Shame, shame, and shame again on all those not on my doorstep people.

I almost wish she comes again.


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