Persecution, it's persecution!

I try not to be judgmental about people, I really do. I don't always succeed, because I freely admit that there is a quite a broad streak of the 'not suffering fools gladly' syndrome in my personality. There are times, though, when it's difficult to avoid. Having been on earlies today, I decided to begin the Christmas festivities, such as they are, in my 'London local'. I'd only been in the pub for about twenty minutes when a family group descended on the table next to mine, a couple in their early twenties with three young children, a girl of around seven, a three or four year old boy and a baby. Here comes the prejudicial bit, I guess. They were chavs. No doubt. Poor white trash, in US speak. The kids ran riot, the adults couldn't have cared less, it appeared. What really got under my skin, though, was hearing the father talking to a friend who'd appeared. About how he 'never bought a ticket on the train', but had been caught by ticket inspectors the past two days. And talking about it in in such a way as to clearly illustrate that, in consequence, he saw himself as a victim. 'Why should I pay?', that's obviously only for mugs. Yeah, the mugs subsidising parasites like you, you arsehole. The capitalist system is very far from being perfect, but, if everyone took his attitude, the whole economic basis of society would collapse, and tribal anarchy would doubtless ensue. If you want stuff, be it a train ride or a Ferrari, be prepared to work and pay for it. The whole system falls to bits otherwise.

Love & best wishes to all
 Sammy B