It is kind of ironic that London tubers -e.g. Londoners who use the underground daily- commuted home last Thursday with the news of the affair of a Tube boss and a prostitute. The feeling must be like being stab by your own butler who was not even born when you bought the house. As usual, pre-cooked dish served by the Evening Standard. The story is typical to boredom -an important, public man has an affair with a escort for a few months, the mouth get wet, promises escape and when he tries to call it a day, the whole thing goes public. Oh! Ah! Uh! "Married Sir Peter, whose taxpayer-funded salary and bonus paid last year totalled 660,000 GBP...", recites the Standard in from page, second paragraph. The word "allegedly" afterwards hurts twice after such a neutral introduction.
Sir Peter Gerard Hendy, current Commissioner of Transport for London, 60, has collected significant recognition in 38 years of public service. He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire (2006) for his work during the bombings of London the previous year and has been knighted this very year after success facing the Olympics transport challenges. What has caught my eye mostly, though, is his mythological conception. Sir Peter is the son, I read, of a Communist electrician and the daughter of the 6th Baron Wynford (!). As a matter of fact, we are becoming so used to these apparently impossible pairings that we should reformulate our class-struggle schemes.
Anyhow, the only statement I believe is true out of the declarations spoken by Ms Rachael Grundy -the whore- is that Hendy is a nice guy. I truly believe so: only nice guys get themselves strangled so stupidly. From the shores of this humble blog I just would like to send a message in a bottle to drifters and sailors out there: prostitutes do not fell in love. Pretty Woman is the fairy tale of adulthood. Escorts, call girls are doomed, way passed recovery; especially if they are 40, they are fatally damaged. Look at them straight in the eye, look at Ms Rachael Grundy in the eye: a thin layer of sadness lies beyond the rimmel, like abrasive lunar dust. There is no shine coming out from them; her eyes are like embers with no fire. Only nice guys believe that they can tie up those two dying stars and bring them back to life... Oh! Mistake only nice guys make.
Ms Rachel Grundy is just a wasted woman exerting utmost cruelty. She is a solitary wicked wretch and the only consolation for her people -wherever they are- comes from a zombies movie: that is not Rachel anymore. I am guessing the normal thing to happen is that Peter will pay a high price, professional and personally. I don't care about his job and titles and such a fancy fuss, but I think he deserves an opportunity from his wife and sons. He is indeed a nice guy. The viper Grundy just gave him the option to definitely escape his particular inferno. It is not too late, Peter, this is your moment. You are not alone. Other men can also hear deaf thuds and screeches coming up from the doors of hell, and feel the weight of the devil's claw squeezing their chest, blinding their reason in high-demanding situations. It only happens to nice guys, high self-considered men that expect the best from themselves. Nice guys are terrible self-judges. Nice guys don't care of themselves.
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
Sir Peter Gerard Hendy, current Commissioner of Transport for London, 60, has collected significant recognition in 38 years of public service. He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire (2006) for his work during the bombings of London the previous year and has been knighted this very year after success facing the Olympics transport challenges. What has caught my eye mostly, though, is his mythological conception. Sir Peter is the son, I read, of a Communist electrician and the daughter of the 6th Baron Wynford (!). As a matter of fact, we are becoming so used to these apparently impossible pairings that we should reformulate our class-struggle schemes.
Anyhow, the only statement I believe is true out of the declarations spoken by Ms Rachael Grundy -the whore- is that Hendy is a nice guy. I truly believe so: only nice guys get themselves strangled so stupidly. From the shores of this humble blog I just would like to send a message in a bottle to drifters and sailors out there: prostitutes do not fell in love. Pretty Woman is the fairy tale of adulthood. Escorts, call girls are doomed, way passed recovery; especially if they are 40, they are fatally damaged. Look at them straight in the eye, look at Ms Rachael Grundy in the eye: a thin layer of sadness lies beyond the rimmel, like abrasive lunar dust. There is no shine coming out from them; her eyes are like embers with no fire. Only nice guys believe that they can tie up those two dying stars and bring them back to life... Oh! Mistake only nice guys make.
Ms Rachel Grundy is just a wasted woman exerting utmost cruelty. She is a solitary wicked wretch and the only consolation for her people -wherever they are- comes from a zombies movie: that is not Rachel anymore. I am guessing the normal thing to happen is that Peter will pay a high price, professional and personally. I don't care about his job and titles and such a fancy fuss, but I think he deserves an opportunity from his wife and sons. He is indeed a nice guy. The viper Grundy just gave him the option to definitely escape his particular inferno. It is not too late, Peter, this is your moment. You are not alone. Other men can also hear deaf thuds and screeches coming up from the doors of hell, and feel the weight of the devil's claw squeezing their chest, blinding their reason in high-demanding situations. It only happens to nice guys, high self-considered men that expect the best from themselves. Nice guys are terrible self-judges. Nice guys don't care of themselves.
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
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