Monday, August 30, 2010

Soap opera real estate

Why do people buy soap opera real estate?

It seems like folly to me, heading off to live in Weatherfield or Walford or wherever Fair City is based. It may come cheap, you may even win your brand new home in a game of poker or as a bribe from the local loan shark, but it wouldn't be worth it to my mind.

Why so because? You're just after unpacking all your stuff and about to head upstairs to christen the place with the missus. The doorbell rings and stands there a man. He says something like 'alright bruv' and then some percussive theme music plays as if from nowhere.

You have, up to this point, lived happily brotherless but now that you've bought some soap opera real estate you have to make nice, put the kettle on and shield this sham artist from the police. This is all fair enough, you get fairly used to having him around until you come home one day and catch him having a safe pre-watershed grope with the wife. Your wife, like.

Who needs the hassle?

Buying soap opera real estate also entangles you in the lives of the neighbours and you'll be invited to every christening (that turns into a wedding), every wedding (that turns into a funeral) and every funeral (that turns into a pub fire) on the street. Fuck that.

No, I'm not having that. Odious places to live. Dangerous too. You just know that the wife - having just overcome a three-week bout of alcoholism, crack addiction and trick turning - will get lamped in the face by some falling building site debris.

She'll die, you'll only be allowed to mourn her until the end of the story cycle and then you'll feel like you have to take a contract out on the brickie who failed to use 'best practice' on the job.

This means getting caught up with the local gangster who absolutely WILL need a favour some time, and you'll need eyes in the back of your head until his character arc reaches its shocking conclusion over Christmas week.

I couldn't be doing with it.

5 comments:

Conan Drumm said...

You're really on the money with this. I mean, there you are minding your own business and total strangers suddenly materialise in your kitchen with cleaning products! Have they got a set of fucking keys to your house or what?

Radge said...

I really hope to never find out.

Kath Lockett said...

And whatever you do, don't ever buy American soap opera real estate or you'll risk having a six-month attack of amnesia during which your evil (and previously unknown) twin will arrive, make a huge fortune for your business and shag your wife.

All before the end of the week.

EmilyAM said...

Have you ever read Confessions of a Fallen Angel by Ronan O'Brien? There are some passages set in a soap opera housing estate in Dubland somewhere. Great book, bought it last year and only got around to it this month.

Radge said...

I haven't. I must.