The Regions

London based media Executives refer snootily to the rest of the country as 'the regions'.
It's a bit like how a 19th Century Aristocrat would refer to 'the colonies'.

"London is where all the jobs are"
"London is where the real money is"
"All of the best media developments come out of London"
"London is the creative hub"
"The further outside of London you are, the further in the past you are living"
"London doesn't have a present darling, only a future"

This executive will now go on and attempt to shed light on a recent ‘regional experience’ enjoyed earlier this week.

Travel:
Business travel is expensive these days, Virgin trains were happy to relieve the company of several hundred pounds for the joy of travelling a few hours outside of London. THUD! – the sound of another epic credit card bill. Spending 5 hours of a working day on a train is also an incredibly productive use of executives’ time.

Food :
The thought of expensing heart-attack inducing pastries, croissants and other station-based breakfast fayre is normally unbearably exciting, keeping this executive awake all night before a big trip to the regions. Yet by 11 a.m. your stomach is gurgling, wanting it’s next greasy fix and you feel like you are walking through treacle.

Location:
Industrial estate. It’s always an industrial estate. Taxi drivers don’t know where it is, and if they did, they would refuse to drive you there as they wouldn’t want to been seen in the red light district non-trendy part of town. Regional offices serve one purpose, to remind executives not to go further down the marketing chain towards client side. You will end up in a suicide hotspot estate in Bracknell, Nottingham or Chertsey. At best you will end up in Hammersmith.

Credos:
Coming from London makes you feel a bit like rock star visiting the regions. Younger regional reps and workers cling to you as the fountain of knowledge on cool, and hang on your every word. They will be sure to mention that they shop at the uber cool ‘Diesel Jeans’ and just bought the new Kings of Leon album, that's cool right? I could live in London too yeah?

Lunch:
Normally a sandwich platter provided by Greggs or the Town Crier café. This executive once bit down into a brie sandwich to find that it had soggy prawns stuffed into the middle of its puffy yet stale white bread. It’s always white bread in the north. On this particular trip, we convened in a chain eatery. Pizza express, my favourite.

Conversation:
Topics of conversation include – New cars, completing your mileage form for expenses, areas of small regional towns where employees live, the best road to take to any given location, rush hour, the tubes being confusing / busy, MOT costs, MPG, children and things not being as good as they used to be.

This executive has never prayed for a Tuesday so badly.

P.S. Executive Summary often flirts between truth, irony and bullshit. ES feels the need to point out that regional representatives are always welcoming, appreciative and entertaining.

Getting to work #3 - on the road

 

I'm not sure if this feature will extend beyond this, the third installment. How else do people get to work, Unicycle? Hovercraft? Jetpack?

Back to business, or rather how you get to your place of business.

You might be surprised to learn to 40% of commuter journeys in London are made by car (National Travel Survey). This doesn't even include buses, and shows that not all of us are poor sods have to spend 10 hours a week underground hating the f*** out of everyone else just for being there.


ROAD RAGE VIDEO!
enjoy





Here is some behaviour and characters that you may well recognise if you spend your mornings en route to work behind the wheel, or on the bus:


Lairy bus drivers - I love a good lairy bus driver. Someone who thinks, 'My bus is massive, I am in command of London's traffic'. They might lean out the window to shout abuse at another motorist, high five another bus driver, or sit reading a newspaper and eating a currant bun whilst at traffic lights. Beware, have the correct change when boarding!

Schmohawks - drivers who don't know whether to move into a space in traffic or not. They are too tentative and timid for London driving. They'll hold up everyone by inching into a huge gap and then flashing profusely to say thank you. The adrenaline and nervous energy is likely to make them stall at the next junction.

Chav schoolkids on the bus - However much you are above them in terms of intellect, social standing and respectability, they will find a way to embarrass you with purile comments that have no comeback. Either that or you'll feel like a pussy for not reprimanding them whilst they screech away on their hoot-pieces gassing about Akon, Tynchy Strider or New Look and stuff.

Flip floppers - Drivers who change their mind every 10 seconds. Likely to be lost and indicating just for fun. Getting stuck behind one can put the fear of God into you.

Angry taxi man - already finished reading the Sun cover to cover by 8:30 a.m. and you are in his way of a good morning fry up. If only all of these smarmy commuters would stop getting in and giving him a fayre he could get some good quality loitering done. Angry taxi man has an 11 a.m. appointment to read Viz and a 12 a.m. call up LBC radio to make a borderline racist comment that foreigners are taking British jobs. At 2p.m. he'll talk to Steve (another cabbie) about Chelsea's chances of league success and get to the West End in time to fleece some tourists in the early evening.

Left leaners - no, not people who will vote for Gordon Brown no matter what state the economy is in. These are people who inexplicably drive 2 cm from the left curb whilst the rest of traffic stays a good meter out. Are they scared of oncoming traffic, or do they have one arm longer than the other causing them to steer to the left?

Embarrassed suits - for some, getting the bus to work is cheaper, and quicker than getting the tube. On certain routes, you see quite a few suits on their way to the office. But there is still a terrible stigma attached to 'getting the bus'. It's what people on the dole do. It's what chav schoolkids do, and all the drivers are power crazed bun gobblers. They pretend that they're down with getting the bus, its green and cool yeah? All of these people wish for the tube every day, and that's saying something.

Commercial radio luvvies.- normal car commuters who love the radio a little too much. 'Ooh I can't wake up without Johnny and Lisa on Capital FM'. 'I'm a long time listener and regular caller'. 'Nothing relaxes me more than lovely Neil Fox's fat throat chuffing out burbling bullshit at 7a.m.' If Spencer Tracy were in a movie about Commercial radio luvvies it would be called 'It's a smug smug smug smug world'.
Beepers - It's fairly simple. You don't after need to beep 0.2 seconds after the light. Some people sit there with there hand over the horn willing people in front of them not to go. 'Don't go. Forget to drive, don't pay attention to the lights, I dare you! I'm going to beep hell out of you, your eardrums won't know what hit them. It'll be like getting hit with a frying pan full of hot mustard right between your stupid inattentive eyes.

Baby on board - I'm convinced half of these signs are fakes (like putting a house alarm case on display on your front wall). Do they really make that much difference anyway? Oooohhh that person has got a baby in their car at all times (even when parked?!?), I'm definitely not going to ram them now. In fact I'm going to get out at the next traffic light an kick off the bumper of every car which doesn't have a lovely baby in it.


Well, I've got to get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow to drive to Poole for a wedding. It's not mine Mum, don't worry. I won't be listening to commercial radio, ramming any parents off the road or being a general Schmohawk.

Have a good bank holiday, I'll see you all on the other side.

Getting to work #1 - Cycling

The Mayor of London demonstrating how to steal a bike

Executive Summary moves onto its third blog 'series' - Getting to work. I don't want to talk about how annoying it is that the Tube is packed, or moan about the capital's traffic, so I'm going to let you into the weird and wonderful wold of oddities on the commute.

We have already gone through Media characters, and I continue to upload horrendous press clippings from magazines (Bad Ads). I'm branching out here too, talking about life outside of the office. So, since there is a first time for everything, I'm going to put some videos up too.

Whilst it may seem like an odd place to start, let's talk about cycling. Only 2% of journeys nationally are made on bicycles, but getting on your bike is a pretty attractive alternative to spending 7 hours and £130 per week underground.  What with the London bike scheme launching, I thought I would enlighten you with some of this executives happenings from just off the curb.

Some of the stranger incidents I've seen:

Bike rage - near fist fight between cyclists at Warren St because one undertook the other and called him a wanker. Undertaking is totally wrong, even on a push bike and the situation ended rather confusingly, with one cyclist clearly turning off the road he wanted to go down to avoid said fisticuffs.

Gear Envy - cyclists often look each other up and down at traffic lights, surveying the competition. You can handle the fact someone has paid more to get a nice shiny and light bike, but technical clothing often gives you gear envy. I saw three commuters with cycle computers, I don't know what they compute, but I needed one. I need to update my tired anorak if I see jacket looking more day-glo than mine, and I need to buy me some spokey dokeys! I don't think I will ever be envious of people with fold up bikes, they cost a bomb and make you more smug than Prius drivers.

Awkward silences - after broken conversation at traffic lights - 'lovely day for cycling isn't it?' . . . .  'yup' (please go green, please go green, please stop looking at me).

Shout outs- you can call anyone anything under the sun and ride off quickly. 'you're in the road idiots'. 'Bus wanker!'. 'I smell bacon', 'Orange beast', 'camden crobber', 'Brompton bastard'. I once saw a cyclists hurry through and amber light after shouting 'Shotgun!'. n.b. This can also work the other way around (pedestrian calling you a C.U.Next.Tuesday when you break a red light),

Mobile CallsI saw someone with a Bluetooth headset struggling up a hill whilst on a business call. Utter tool. Headphones should also not be allowed, you need to hear the road dummies.

No sympathy - You often see an unfortunate soul who is mending a puncture by the side of the road. Once, a cyclist in front of me looked across and exclaimed  "Ha Ha!"

Drink riding - hang around the west end and you will see drunk riders wobbling home at 10pm. At least they can only hurt themselves right? That's why the police don't care. A fellow executive once admitted to have cycled home drunk and taken over 4 hours for a 30 minute journey. It literally ended in tears, and a concussion to boot!

Mental games cyclists play - These often help you to stave off tiredness and keep pedalling. Cyclists often play the +1-1 game. Every cyclist you overtake you get a point, and lose a point when you are overtaken. You can get competitive with yourself by attempting to beat your commuting time each day (required a cycle computer). Finally, a fellow cyclist mentioned the concept of 'winning the trophy'. This can be achieved when you see an attractive cyclist of the opposite sex and shout 'Get the trophy!' before overtaking them.

Characters you might encounter -
Bolshy Taxi drivers, the scourge of the cyclist.
Rickshaws riders, the lowest rung of the cycling community.
Headless chicken pedestrians, enjoy throwing themselves into the road
Fixed-wheel Shoreditch twits, don't wear helmets because it won't fit over their stupid angular haircuts.
The full roadie, they have top spec bikes, full Lycra and go incredibly fast. They often don't have bags as they are cycling for fun.
The newbie - often slightly older ladies riding shoppers with double panniers. Usually wear day-glo vests and no helmet.

Tune in again for more commuting capers.