My father attempts to hide his inner reactionary by ostentatiously being the best customer of the fat Bulgarian lady who, rather aggressively, sells the Big Issue outside the Co-Op in Shipston on Stour. Sometimes, in order to either annoy me or to demonstrate his PC credentials to my virtue signalling public sector (part time) working sisters he will buy two or three issues a month.This is not Alzheimer's he has always done it. He is the favourite "customer" of the great Bulgarian lardbucket.
You and I might think that the Big Issue is there as a stop gap measure to stop folks having to beg and to get them back "into the system" but clearly for, at least one, Bulgarian it is worth taking an Easyjet flight to Stanstead in order to pursue it as a vocation.
The Fat Bulgarian plies her trade two days a week in Shipston and three days a week outside M&S in Stratford. Myself and my father's prime carer, the delightfully right wing E, can already see why this whole process is ridiculous. We suspect, but cannot prove, the Bulgar lardbucket is also helping herself to the largesse offered by the Welfare State but this morning came the bombshell.
E reveals that after putting in her shift of hard selling in Shipston the Bulgar does not return home by bus like other poor folks. Instead she is picked up in a silver Mercedes. E and I put it to my father that his generosity is now, beyond any doubt being abused and that this shows the reality of free movement within the EU and the moral degeneracy that mainlining welfare brings.
He was having none of it. Sister T, a part time Shipman, and the most pious of all the virtue signallers in our family ( quite an achievement in itself) was on her way. There was just enough time for the old fool to buy yet another edition of this month's Big Issue, featuring a lengthy interview with the loathsome Russell Brand, before T arrived.