Honest to Goodness
An Irony
Earlier this evening, upon entering the second floor of the library, I came across a sign on the door which read, "There are thieves operating in the library today! Do not leave your belongings unattended." Shortly afterwards I left and headed home. As I approached my building, I spied the Tesco delivery truck parked outside the entrance. Walking past the vehicle I noted that there was no one about, yet the doors of the truck were standing wide, revealing many bins full of bags of groceries.
The irony struck me at dinner. The thieves were in the library, but there was no concern outside my residence, where you wouldn't have had to walk more than 50 yards into the building with those bags before passing individuals would assume you had just gotten off the bus.
Scotland. The Honest Country.
Believe you me, I have given the matter some thought, and the evidence is pretty clear: Scotland's an honest place. At the very least, people are trusting. The bus system's pretty easy to cheat, but people don't. Just today, I asked Toshiba to fix my laptop. Figured they'd want to verify the purchase date. Nope. "September 15? If you say so." They're coming to pick it up later this week.
Some in my acquaintance make much of the bureaucracy in the UK. Maybe there's more red tape in England; I couldn't say. But I do not run in to so much here. Things take longer, that's for sure, and that is sometimes frustrating. But it doesn't so much add up to administrative tie-up.
Honest place. Trusting people. They seem genuine, and I would like to think I have been here long enough to see through them in they were not. Yes, I think Scotland suits me.
Earlier this evening, upon entering the second floor of the library, I came across a sign on the door which read, "There are thieves operating in the library today! Do not leave your belongings unattended." Shortly afterwards I left and headed home. As I approached my building, I spied the Tesco delivery truck parked outside the entrance. Walking past the vehicle I noted that there was no one about, yet the doors of the truck were standing wide, revealing many bins full of bags of groceries.
The irony struck me at dinner. The thieves were in the library, but there was no concern outside my residence, where you wouldn't have had to walk more than 50 yards into the building with those bags before passing individuals would assume you had just gotten off the bus.
Scotland. The Honest Country.
Believe you me, I have given the matter some thought, and the evidence is pretty clear: Scotland's an honest place. At the very least, people are trusting. The bus system's pretty easy to cheat, but people don't. Just today, I asked Toshiba to fix my laptop. Figured they'd want to verify the purchase date. Nope. "September 15? If you say so." They're coming to pick it up later this week.
Some in my acquaintance make much of the bureaucracy in the UK. Maybe there's more red tape in England; I couldn't say. But I do not run in to so much here. Things take longer, that's for sure, and that is sometimes frustrating. But it doesn't so much add up to administrative tie-up.
Honest place. Trusting people. They seem genuine, and I would like to think I have been here long enough to see through them in they were not. Yes, I think Scotland suits me.