Wakefield, commonly abbreviated to Wakie, proud of its ‘city’ status but blind to its many faults. Nightlife, packed on a Friday and Saturday night, not with happy people having a fun night out, but with shirtless foul mouthed drunks significantly of two distinct types, the 18 to 26 year old male who after 2 pints of stella takes his shirt off and displays a physique only his mother could love (and often does) he can be seen either arguing with a bouncer or lying unconscious as a result of drink or from contact with the said bouncer. The only other type you will see will instantly define ‘grab a granny’ only you really really would want to touch let alone grab any part of these 40 to 60 year old grandma’s, it is a successful pull for them if the bloke they end up with in the underpass next to the prison at the end of the night isn’t their offspring.
During the day if the Samaritans haven’t been able to help you and you want to end it all, take a walk down by the cathedral between M&S and macdonalds, as awell as the usual teen mum with a bunch of rainbow kids, handily named ‘sod off’ ‘f*ck off’ and ‘little cu*t’, you will also see the track suited chav (ensemble finished off with a pair of brogues nicked from the charity shop), he strides along with a pitbull on one side and on the other something of what I presume to be female who resembles an extra from Dr Who, wearing dark glassed and a soft neck brace sat astride a mobility scooter. What they both have in common is the can of stella in one hand and a greggs steak bake in the other.
The positives are that Wakefield has been improved by the influx of eastern Europeans, they have taken over the empty and boarded up shops and are making a go of it and they and take no crap from the local chavs and wannabes.