Never Boring in St Jude’s – Oh What A Circus

Oh What A Circus:

I don’t own the copyright on this picture. It was taken by a neighbour on a quiet Tuesday evening just as people in the area were either settling down for bed, or gearing up for sales. But I feel it sums up St Judes for me. It’s a circus.

It always surprises me when walking along Wade Street if a police car bombing along with blue lights doesn’t screech to a halt somewhere on its murky depths.

You can always tell when something big is happening outside. The sirens never get the chance to create the doppler effect. You hear them coming and the sound doesn’t change in pitch, it just suddenly stops.

Shortly after this photograph was taken, another police car screamed along the road. Anger, shouting and anguish filled the air, and it was nothing to do with self-service supermarket check outs for once. There’s nothing particularly unusual about shouting and anguish on Wade Street, but hearing “my face is ******* burning” being screamed repeatedly made it sound like a worse than the usual situations.

The Salvation Army hostel where the incident was taking place had only recently replaced all the windows and glass at the front of the building. It must be a glaziers dream.

Whilst we have no idea what happened, residents of Wade Street manage to get themselves in the courts several times a week and it will probably materialise in the fullness of time.

It can’t be that much fun living life like a circus in any case and sometimes it’s hard not to feel sorry for people who believe their life has gone so wrong that the only way of coping is through copious amounts of alcohol and a mistimed right hook.

There’s also been lots of police activity in the building we live in. Someone really should just give officers and PCSOs at Trinity Road and Bridewell a key fob to the flats. It would make it so much easier than being a 24 hour concierge.

On Tuesday, the intercom went as usual, only this time there were two men on push bikes looking a lot like local drug dealers. “It’s the police, can you let us in?” they asked, possibly unaware that I could see them on the video phone. Perhaps they were undercover, but as this is the never-boring area, I told them they didn’t look a lot like the police. One of them fished around in his pocket for an ID presumably a warrant card. In all honesty, it could have been a library card because I have no idea what Avon and Somerset Warrant Cards actually look like, so I let him in.

For some reason, I often hum Oh What A Circus, from Evita on the school runs. But whether Wade Street is a West End parody musical or gritty production by the National Theatre, I just can’t decide. It is indisputable that it is always a circus and definitely not a dull one.

 

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