by Christos Polydorou
In London for some reason it is perfectly acceptable if not preferable for a consumer to be a total pain in the bladder, as if the very act of going into any shop pushes anyone one notch higher up the social ladder giving them an undeserved air of authority previously not owed, allowing them to spot a flaw, and complain about it endlessly. When I first moved here I found it embarrassing, but that was before I lived in Hither Green for two years and saw London from the perspective of David Bowie had he remained in South London. Not really, but you know what I mean. So: if you are going to give your hard earned money to the man, you’d better have, at the very least, some scything feedback, is what I have observed, in all of this.