Having grown up with the British phone box, I only notice them when they disappear.
Here in Bath (and all over Britain) foreign tourists have their photographs taken standing outside them, and whenever I see this I am reminded that they typify the sort of Britain that became famous in the 1960s. All those films of Swinging London, etc.
For obvious reasons, most of the rural ones have gone now, but some villagers cannot bear to lose them, so when whoever is responsible for their upkeep refuses to spend any money on keeping the service going, the locals are given them to do with them as they want.
In my adopted village they have turned theirs into a mini library. The phone has been stripped out, the power turned off and shelves have been put up. This is a risk-free venture, because most charity shops don't need any more books now, and even literate vandals are not interested in them.
The first thing you notice when you go into the booth is the stink of stale tobacco and bad breath. If you're lucky there will also be an undertone of urine, but since the rumour of the electrocuted drunk spread, the odour of piss has diminished.
You lift the receiver and put the money in - coin by coin - dial, and press button A. When your call is answered you press button B and a cascade of noisy copper hits the metal tray bellow. For international calls you have to wait quite a while for the coins to drop before you can hear the person on the end of the line.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP....
I associate phone boxes with something going wrong with the car and I would be late home or needed help.
ReplyDeleteI used to call up one late at night to see who answered it. I once was in Buckingham and tried to call someone. My brother answered. He had just moved and I didn't have his new number. Strange.
DeleteIt must run in the family.
DeleteIs that your strange brother? Even stranger then!
DeleteI'm stranger. He is just a boring thief.
DeleteI always held the phone with my handkerchief; I was afraid of catching 'foot and mouth disease'. They were filthy!
ReplyDeleteSpies would d that too, I am told.
DeleteI can smell that delightful smell now ...... someone in London, near The Shard , has opened one up as a coffee shop but is having trouble with the council ..... lots of them are coffee shops and libraries. I’m shocked that you didn’t mention the cards for ‘ personal services ‘ that always made us giggle as teenagers ...... they always had a drawing of a scantily clad girl !! XXXX
ReplyDeleteLatter days it was photographs of women you would never ever meet.
DeleteAs kids my brother and I always popped in (even with the heavy glass & metal door straining to close again) to Press B as very occaisionally 'free' money dropped out for us!
ReplyDeleteYes, I did that too. At one point you could make free calls by sticking your finger up a hole and hitting a lever. I spoke to the USA for hours for free.
DeleteI don't know how or why, but there's a house in a nearby city that has a phone box on its property. I doesn't function. -part of the landscaping, I guess?
ReplyDeleteThey sold of hundreds some years ago. A friend of mine bought about 20, then he sold them to Americans.
DeleteA teenager, in the 1950's, I lived in the country about 7 miles from my girl friend, who lived in the town. Neither of us had house phones then. She used to go to a local phone box at 12.00 on a Sunday and I would similarly cycle about a mile to mine and ring her box's number. If timing was right she would answer and we could make arrangements for Sunday afternoon, which, if fine, usually involved us cycling out towards each other and then riding off together for the afternoon (I had a mental list of secluded haystacks for a "rest" if it was fine and warm!)
ReplyDeleteHow ironic that canoodling amongst teenagers has been killed-off by modern communication.
Delete