Similar to Guildford – in that there exists a massive clash of classes, Horsley is a renowned Chavspot. The fact that the favoured hang-out place is the 2 platform Station says it all.
Like Guildford, Horsley is home to that most vexing of Chavs, the Rich Chav. This, however, affords his victims some advantages in the struggle for survival. The Rich Chav carries a minimum of 56 items of big chunky “gold” Argo-esque jewellery on him at all times, meaning his natural body weight is increased by at least 400%. Thus, a typical Horsley Chav can weigh as much as 20 stone – making it difficult to run after a victim. It should be noted, however, that these Chavs are not as obese as many of their city-dwelling inbred cousins – this species can actually walk, as opposed to waddle [albeit slowly and with a traditional Chav swagger].
As mentioned, the favourite Chavspot is the Station. A truly beautiful 2 platform structure, covered in grafitti, urine seeping out from the toilet door, spit all over the place. The Chavs collect on the Guildford-bound platform, screeching or grunting abuse at passers-by.
Why, only yesterday did they try to remove my mobile phone from me. As I tried to evade their squinted glares, a couple of Chavmen slithered up to me, asking what, pray tell, I was listening to [see: “oi, wot u lisnin 2 m8?”]. Whilst trying not to pass out due to their overpowering smell, I grudginly passed a headphone over to the smaller, spottier, uglier of the two. He grunted incoherently at me, screwing his face up in what I can only imagine to be a smile. The other Chav simply spat on the ground, repeatedly.
“oi giv us ur fone”, spat he of the solidly-gelled-hair, his friend coming menacingly closer. I smirked at him – mostly because he was so unbearabley ugly. It was either a smirk, or bursting into tears. They made to fleece me, but at that point, a larger Chav ambled up. He grunted something towards the smaller boys/trolls, stared me in the eyes; and the ugliest of them all released me from his clammy grasp. I strolled away, bidding them a nice evening at the station. The abuse and spitting followed for a few minutes, until I was out of earshot.
Where the boundary of this great class divide in Horsley exists, I am not sure. However, it appears to be somwhere around Budgens. It is here where we can find the other nesting place of Chav:
Another hotspot is outside Budgens. There, the Chavscum relax on the handily-placed bench, again, spitting and swearing, and generally being fat and pathetic. These BudgensChav, like StationChav, has an inability to speak. He must shout or screech or grunt at all times – the female HorsleyChav is very much the same. HorsleyChavs come in two types: thin or fat, for males; and fit or minging, for females. The minging female HorsleyChav is truly vomit inducing, whilst the fit HorsleyChav demands pity. Being male, I feel the same contempt for the male Chavs.
It is surprising to me that I have not yet seen a pregnant HorsleyChav. With nothing to do in the village, I would expect most Chavs to be pregnant. Why this has not happened, I cannot say; but there will be intensive research into this matter in the near future.
To conclude: the HorsleyChav: ridiculous amounts of jewellery, often rich, very incoherent, inability to keep saliva in the mouth.
Having lived in Guildford for many years, I can say that the HorsleyChav is a more vicious breed of Chav than the common GuildfordChav. For example, the HorsleyChav roams all aspects of the village, whereas Mr. Guildforchav stayed almost exclusively to the North and West of the town.
HorsleyChav hunts in packs, which include, of course, at least 2 female Chavs [Chavettes?].
Note: There is one Chav I have encountered in Horsley with at least two braincells – meaning he is capable of reasonable conversation. I wish him all the best in escaping this horrible place.