Oh Swansea, Swansea, where shall I start? I was born and grew up there, then as an adult I realised it was sh*t and moved far far away. Swansea was once a proud port town and centre of industry, but those days are over now and what’s left is a wasteland of call centres, charity shops and people so orange they make Donald Trump look positively pale. The beach is lovely, however the rest of the town is best avoided.
On coming out of the train station, you’ll be greeted by Swansea High Street, where most people you encounter walking down it probably will be high. Walking down there you’ll see lots of people in cheap counterfeit tracksuits talking about how they **** up a “mush” on a “night out with the boyz”, or yelling at ***** from other parts of the city to “come here and have a go mate”. If someone senses that you’re not from “Swanzee”, they’ll either swear at you for having a Costa Coffee, or ask for a roll-up. This paradise of boarded up windows, vape shops and transients is the welcome many visitors get.
The town centre is full of ratlike kids in tracksuits running around, chased by angry swearing parents who will barge you over if you’re not careful enough, as well as drunk old guys staggering around not really giving a **** about if they’ve washed the entire week. There are a few chain shops, however Starbucks of all places recently got tired of the city centre and moved out of town, which is quite telling.
Moving through the city centre you’ll end up in Wind Street, or “Wine Street” as it’s known. This is the centre of Swansea’s nightlife, and mostly consists of bars desperately trying to attract students and instead getting swarms of orange *****, fresh from the tanning salon. The males are often roided up to f*ck, and whose conversation mainly consists of “WHAT DID YOU SAY, WHAT DID YOU SAY” to other roidheads. The females are mostly horribly aged by frequent trips to the tanning salon, and plenty of **** and booze too, and for some reason believe that a dump truck full of makeup will hide this. They will sick their boyfriends on anyone who they believe is interested in them, then go home with the winner of the bout to begin the process of making more tanning salon customers.
Jobs are mostly in call centres (remember The Call Centre on the BBC? That was Swansea!) or if you’re very lucky in the DVLA or the Job Centre, which places you in the city’s elite and will elicit jealousy from many who aren’t. Of course, if you get an education then most likely you will move to somewhere else and can avoid being trapped in either of these hellholes.
If you were born there, then I guess you’ll disagree with me as for some reason many Swansea residents remain.
