Winning the Sun newspaper’s prestigious award for “Fattest town in Britain” isn’t all Worksop is famous for. Think men in tights, ***** in kappa and women of all shapes and sizes in leggings and you’re just about there. However, these days Robin and his Merry men don’t rob from the rich to give to the poor, but rather collect their dole to buy a Gregg’s pasty and Robin is probably too posh a name for the locals.
With a closed pit, a closing high street and **** wars in kebab shops every Friday night you might think Worksop is lacking in many areas, but don’t be fooled, the people here are as happy as Larry (if Larry were a fat Northerner who liked pies). This is the town of lard mobiles, Iceland home deliveries and leggings (yes again with the leggings). Where popular greetings are “Eh up me duck” or “You’re a rete Kn*b head you is” Where a month’s wages are saved up to buy a new cap and if one is in luck a shop-lifting day trip to South Yorkshire’s Meadow Hall is on the cards.
There’s never a shortage of things to do in the town centre, there are park benches to sit on drinking Diamond White and smoking Lamberts, bars for the over 12s who wear low cut tops and high rise skirts, oh and there’s also a library, which the youths can use as place to wee. A few times a year the fair comes to town. This is an exciting event for Worksopians, the gene pool is enlarged during these few days and 9 months after the Fair’s visit an influx in the town’s population can be noted. Quotes such as “It were right romantic, he took me roughly behind the dodgems” can be heard along with the sound of foreheads against noses as the Worksop men defend the honour of their “*****” against the Fair invaders.
Worksop is a multi racial town, there is an Indian restaurant and a Chinese takeaway. There is also a McDonalds for those fine diners who like American cuisine.
Having lived in Worksop for over 20 years, before I launched my escape plan, I think it can be summed up in the words of my mother “The best thing about Worksop is the by-pass”.
Ollerton: the most boring place to live
Lincoln: The Cathedral and Holiday Inn city
Rotherham than me…
Eakring: not the end of the earth but you sure can see it from there
Bolsover: at night it becomes a typical **** sh*thole
Dinnington – **** end of the Universe
Bulwell: If crippling depression could build a town.
Eastwood, you’ve a choice between Morrisons or Iceland for your micro-chips & blue pop
Nottingham? It should be called Shottingham.