The Toilet Police and Cherie Booth-Blair

I got back from the trip to Shepton Mallet around four in the afternoon, and arrived down at the allotment some time later.
Nosher was already on his evening watering, but pulled out his deckchair to sit with me on the little patch of grass outside his shed and chat about the day.
'Well, how did it go?' he asked.
'The town of Shepton Mallet did not endear itself to me' I replied. 'When we arrived I was in need of a pee, but when we got to the High Street the sign for the public toilets pointed at a cafe. After wandering for a hundred yards in the general direction indicated by the sign, and finding no toilets, we went back and asked at the cafe where the public toilets were. They didn't know, but thought there were some up by the Council Offices the other end of town. This is a one-horse town, so one might be forgiven for expecting the locals to know where the public loos are. So we went there, and, sure enough, found a sign indicating toilets, so we headed off in that direction. On the way we met an efficient-looking woman coming out of the offices and we asked for directions. She said she knew nothing about the toilets we were searching for (surprise, surprise!), but said she knew of some near the town centre, and would take us there, which was very kind of her. We followed her back into the town centre, down a little lane (no signs indicating public toilets were in evidence until within sight of them, well away from the High Street), and she pointed out the loos which were by the Police Station. By this time I was beginning to lose any interest in Shepton Mallet, as I was now desparate for a pee. The toilets looked very newly installed, had a big sign outside declaring that anyone vandalising them would be prosecuted. Inside they were spotless, and everything was made of shiny metal. But within seconds of closing the door a Stasi-like voice (very stern indeed) announced from a hidden loudspeaker at high volume in almost hysterical tones that your visit was timed and that you should not delay. The disembodied voice rang out and echoed off the walls, floor and ceiling, giving the impression one was living in a police state and the forces of tyranny were about to burst in through the door. Desparate as I was to use the facilities, this announcement ruined my experience of the difficult-to-find Shepton Mallet public toilets. The announcement was followed by a recording of Vivaldi's Spring at much lower volume, the incongruity apparently being lost on who ever had selected it. Perhaps a recording of one of Hitler's finest rabble-rousing speeches would have been more appropriate. In retrospect, I think we should have driven straight to the hospital and given Shepton Mallet a miss. Its only memorable feature is an ancient market cross. The rest is best forgotten. But my wife is fine - an X-ray, a consultation, followed by an MRI scan, and a follow-up appointment in two weeks. And the Treatment Centre was spotless, the staff polite and efficient. But it is, of course, a private hospital contracted to reduce the NHS waiting lists. How have you got on here?'
Nosher sighed.
'As far as the allotment goes, fine' he replied, 'I've done your watering for you. But on the radio news they announced that drama queen Cherie Booth-Blair (in her bossy barrister role) has announced that she's so concerned about knife crime that she fears for the safety of her children. This was enough to almost induce me to vomit. This is just empty posturing (just like her husband, really...). I mean, it's not as if she lives in some council flat on a crumbling sink estate where she is confronted by knife-wielding hoodies every time she goes out, is it? She and her children live a life of comfort and privilege, separated from the reality in which the rest of us have to live. And as for her saying that knife-crime is under-reported - well, the hypocrisy of the women is almost unbelievable! Why didn't she speak out when her husband was PM? The rest of us have known for years that the crime figures are a fiction. Our criminal justice system is totally in ruins, violent thugs are let out on bail to prey on the public yet again, and if they get sent to prison it's a joke, they have more leisure facilities there than they have access to on the outside, and they'll be let out less than half way through their sentence and then allowed to re-offend because the supervision is non-existent. And the government of which her husband was the leader allowed all this to get much, much worse, despite promising to be tough on crime! Cherie Booth-Blair is a lawyer who's campaigned on behalf of the "human rights" of criminals, yet now expects us to take her seriously when she's going on about the dreadful reality of knife crime! She's part of the problem, not part of the solution! It's enough to make one weep in despair that these dreadful people can get away with this empty posturing.'
'It doesn't surprise me at all' I said 'I've just been to Shepton Mallet.'