Watford – Every day is the day of the living dead

I grew up near Watford, but as soon as I was old enough, I left to never return. Due to Covid 19 pandemic, I have been doing shopping for my parents who live in South Herts. This has meant trips to a large supermarket in Watford.

When the town comes in to view from the M1 link road, it becomes apparent that Watford has not demolished the ugly concrete buildings that most towns pulled down in the late 1990s. The second impression you get is that the grey pallor of the concrete matches the skin tone of the locals. None of them ever smile. Every one of them is dressed head to toe in clothing from Sports Direct. Occasionally you hear one of them emit a strange noise, in an unknown language as the shuffle along.

The longer I spend in the supermarket, I become more convinced that I am the only living person within several miles. Not wishing to chance a violent death at the hands of the locals (I went to Kudos enough times to know the locals are violent), I finish my shopping and leave the town quickly choosing a route I know will not have any traffic lights on it.

As I look in my rear view mirror, I notice Watford is very flat and has lots of watercourses. It should flood more than it does, yet it does not. This really is the nicest thing anyone can say about the town.



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