Bromley is where I grew up, a relatively affluent but otherwise nondescript suburb in Greater London. Google Bromley and you'll get an article for the Independent on just how mind-numbingly boring it is.
A land of sensibly mid-priced shoe shops, Bromley's attractions include: Dixons, Clarks, Wetherspoons, several places that sell Fish and Chips and a whole bunch of shops that sell all sorts of things that can get in literally any other place ever.
What's odd about small towns like Bromley though, is it isn't even a small town. It's literally 6 miles from central London, 15 minutes on the fast train from Bromley South and yet you just don't feel like it. At best you feel like you're somewhere in maybe Essex, certainly somewhere provincial. And like all provincial places, here comes the provinical attitude.
From the local media...
To more recently, Twitter pages dedicated to the town. I.e. Bromley Exposed.
Image nicked from Vice, feel free to ask me to take it down. It's not like I love the look of it.
I mean, where do you start?
I get that people think that it's banter, that it's funny, but here's the thing about banter. It's not banter when you don't reveal who you are.
Of course, aspiring to make your town the UK equivalent of Gossip Girl is about the best Bromley is ever going to be, but seriously guys what the fuck?
Quite apart from the obvious misogyny of the page, defended by some lovely fellow explaining that lads sticking up for girls were clearly "just trying to get their dicks wet" the way that anybody who dared get a little bit upset when nameless cowards posted crap about them were then 'revealed' with a whole load of other slander was frankly disturbing.
I get that a lot of the people on there were kids, or at least I hope they were, but Bromley Exposed didn't shock me in the least: if anything it was confirmation of what a nasty vindictively minded place these semi-affluent, semi-convenient and not really anything special places can be.