Maidstone has become a chav invested hole from which there is seemingly no escape (mainly because every town in the UK is the same). Just walk down Week Street towards the High Street and you will see an endless line of hoodies and baseball caps just inside the entrance to Burger King sheltering from the rain. Go into the Chequers Centre (recently renamed the The Mall Chequers) and you will see them strolling along in groups of five or six wondering where to shoplift next. There are shops for the chav boys (Sport Soccer, V Shop, Game) and chav girls (Mark One, New Look, Atlantic Clothing), all of which owe the majority of their stockloss to the phenomenon which is the chav. Even chav mums get a look in on the “five finger discount” as they attempt to nick dummys from Wilkinsons and Mothercare for the “mini-chav” they have sitting happily in the stolen Burberry buggy. Do these children know the destiny their parents have planned for them? No. They innocently sit in their pushchairs drinking milk from a bottle that was nicked whilst the security guards back was turned. The poor baby is only 18 months old and already handling stolen property.
Visit the Chequers Bus Station were the chavs take refuge while waiting for the next number 85 bus to Senacre, via South Park Road, Plains Avenue, Northumberland Road. Or they could be taking the 85 in the opposite direction, Maidstone Hospital. Why? Because they were beaten to a pulp by an even bigger chav and now needs to get the glass taken out of the gapping head wound. As if beating the hell out of Grundgers and Skaters and OAPs wasn’t satisfying enough, they beat the hell out of each other.
Normal citizens of Maidstone: we need to take back our town before we are all wearing a clothing label that took it’s signiture pattern from a bad 70s sofa.