If I didn't love London as much as I do, I wouldn't spend as much time up there as possible. The nightlife is fantastic, there's plenty of record shops to lose hours in, and if all else fails there is no shortage of cool pubs and bars to hang out in and get quietly fucked up.
However, as I've mentioned elsewhere on this website, for everything good in the world there must be something bad to create a balance in the Karmic nature of the universe. Yes, I know this may sound like hippy, tree-hugging bullshit, but for all I love about London, there is just as much that I hate. For example:


1/ THE COUNTERSTAFF IN BARS AND FASTFOOD RESTAURANTS

Call me prejudiced if you want, but I wouldn't want a blind man operating on me. I wouldn't want a deaf man to produce the next Wildhearts album. I wouldn't want a nun to give me sex tips to spice up my relationship. And, and I can't stress this enough, I wouldn't want someone who can't understand English taking my order when I want a beer or a burger pronto. Fast food is called "Fast food" for a fucking reason, and I want my pint in my hand as soon as possible. What I don't want to do is place my order and receive a blank look in return, like I've just shown a card-trick to a dog. I don't care if you're foreign, retarded or Northern - equal opportunities is a good thing, after all - but I resent having to try and mime "Double bacon cheeseburger and medium fries" because the management have managed to save 15p an hour by hiring someone who doesn't know better and can't understand a fucking word I'm saying.


2/ TOURISTS ON THE UNDERGROUND

I want to catch the tube, I can hear the train pulling up, and yet some moron can't figure out how to work the gates. You put your card in the slot, wait for it to come out of another slot, then walk through. Easy. But no, these people have to stand there, helpless as new-born calves, as they try and figure out this new-fangled technology that the crazy Londoners insist on using. Eventually, when a member of staff takes pity on them and does the hard work for them, they go and ignore the "KEEP TO THE RIGHT" signs on the escalators, blocking my way once again. If I was paranoid I'd say that these people were cousins of the people who had just served me in McDonalds and that the whole family had moved to London to deliberately fuck with me. Actually, I am paranoid, so I will.


3/ BARS

While waiting at the bar you will observe a number of things: City Execs just out of the office and sneering at my jeans and t-shirt ensemble; tourists accidentally hitting me in the face with their rucksack when they turn away from the bar; me waiting patiently for 20 minutes to get served; me getting irate when some fucker walks straight to the bar and gets served before me; me eventually trying to mime "Fosters" when I do get the barman's attention and, finally, me screaming "HOW MUCH?" after getting told that it's £3.20 a pint. Actually, I do know some good places with reasonable prices and a decent clientele. However, I'm not telling you where they are as I don't want to queue the next time I'm there.


4/ SANDWICHES

Is it impossible to get a BLT on white bread anywhere in London? No, I don't want a baguette. No, I don't want ciabatta bread. No, I don't want wild guinea fowl with olives and sun-dried tomato on rye. BLT. White bread. It should be simple, shouldn't it? But no, London's eateries have to be fucking cosmopolitan, don't they? Wankers.


5/ THE UNDERGROUND

Apart from the fact that the corridors in most Underground stations were designed by the same people who designed mazes for laboratory rats, I hate the fact that what should be a 5 minute journey often becomes a 20 minute journey when the train makes an unscheduled stop between stations. This ALWAYS means that I get a quarter of an hour enduring the BO emanating from the businessman's armpit as he hangs on to the rail next to me. OK people, here's a quick hint - if the train ain't moving, you can stop hanging on and put your fucking arms down. Thank you.


6/ BUSKERS

If I wanted to hear "Wonderwall" I'd go out and buy an Oasis bootleg. However, I don't want to listen to it so I don't have the album, and I'm unlikely to throw money into your guitar case just because you've decided to inflict it on me while I'm stuck behind a tourist on an escalator.


7/ BEGGARS

So you've decided that the best way to spend your day is to sit around in the open air, drinking cider and trying to ponce cigarettes off of anyone who walks past. I gave that shit up when I was sixteen, but if that's your career choice then good luck. What I don't get are the ones who sit by the cashpoints and ask if you have any spare cash while you try to make a withdrawal. What, like I'm going to take an extra note out? You wish.


8/ THE LAST TRAIN

The last train invariably leaves about two hours before you want it to, and often ten minutes before you reach the station to try and catch it. If you do make it, and you've had a sufficient amount of alcohol, you'll either be needing a piss every ten minutes thanks to the gentle rocking motion, or you'll fall asleep and find yourself in Dover. If you're sober, you'll simply be irritated by the loud, drunken office workers making their way home after a night on the lash that they'll put through on expenses as "Client entertainment."


9/ THE NIGHT BUS

The night bus is for people who were either too poor or too busy drinking to catch the last train home. Like the train you'll find that you have the constant need to piss, but as there is no toilet on board you'll either have to hold it and hope that you don't rupture your bladder, or piss under the seat and hope that you don't get caught. The other bad thing about night buses is the fact that, regardless of the number or quality of the people onboard, there always seems to be a quiet tension in the air so that you spend 90 minutes praying that a fight doesn't break out, especially one that involves you.


10/ TICKET TOUTS

These people are scum. Ok, so they're not unique to London, but they fucking annoy me anyway.