PIGY is the latest agency to hit Grimsby and Cleethorpes. It's a little bit different. There is absolutely no discrimination policy here - which is not always a good thing.
Discover the flabby underbelly of this once thriving, now struggling fishing port and, its conjoined partner in crime, the good old British faded seaside resort.
The proprietor is Tracey Edges. See what she sees - it's not always pretty...
(Scroll to the May 2012 Archive for PIGY 1 , to read in order as a continuing story)
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
PIGY 1 – The Beginning
can’t call it that. No Noo Nooooo”.
you is Fat”, Ally Grace, pulled a face and did her impression of Richard
Madeley doing his impression of Ali G. She liked having the same name. Why? It
well. Sod that – it works and unless you can think of anything better;
That Is What It Is.
We need to get down to it and not waste any more time. Do you have any money?
No? Neither do I.” Ally pulled another face and went to let Capt. PUGwash out
for his millionth wee of the day and put the kettle on, also for the millionth
time that day.
reached for a fine-liner and started doodling different versions of our logo.
Not too sure which way to go but soon plumped for simplicity with the Dock
Tower as the letter ‘I’. I had done a painting called Dock Tower Plaza so it
would be easy to use that and add some lettering. I had taken the photograph of
the Dock Tower myself so no copyright issues there.
"DOCK TOWER PLAZA" 76x76cm Mixed media on stretched cotton canvas
had started off as a joke on Facebook. I was bored and suddenly in need of a
job and also been reading too many books; the latest being about a Private
Investigator based in Hull. Hull is north of the River Humber and Grimsby is
below it. It used to be fun travelling between the two via one of the two
ferries rolling their lumbering way across the brown river that looked like home-made beer with scum on it. The ferries sometimes used to get stuck on a
sandbank which was great fun if you were a kid but somehow annoying if you were
an adult. I was a kid then so it was always an adventure.
back to Grimsby. I now live there but I was born and brought up in Cleethorpes.
Sometimes I say I’m from one place and sometimes the other. It doesn’t really
matter as they are just two halves of the same sprawling splodge with no
discernible gap in-between. Many roads have one side in one town and the other
side in the other town. You could easily stand with a foot in both towns but
you would risk death so probably not really worth it.
the M180 coming into Grimsby you carry on straight down Cleethorpe Road (in
Grimsby) – no idea why the ‘s’ was
missing off the end – maybe the original sign wasn’t long enough – who knows.
It then suddenly turns into Grimsby Road which is in Cleethorpes (which does
still have its ‘s’, lucky thing). Grimsby used to have a thriving fishing
industry and docks but that is mostly gone now leaving dereliction, chavs and
apathy in its wake. Cleethorpes is a typical British seaside resort. It came to
prominence when the Victorians built the railways. It’s a good place to travel
to on a train as if you fall asleep you can’t go too far. Cleethorpes is at the
end of the line. It is also now very faded compared to the pre-era of cheap
package holidays abroad. It does have plenty of great beaches for dog walks
can remember the beach and prom heaving with people but now you mainly get
boy-racers who think it’s a big deal to rev and race their boy-racer cars like
mad between the speed bumps. For Godssake – if you’re going to go for it – GO
FOR IT and fly over the bloody bumps don’t prissy out in case you take your low
front bumper out. YOU LOOK SILLY and are annoying in your silliness. Bit of a
pet hate there – you may be able to tell.
suddenly struck me that I would quite like to be a Private Investigator. You’re
not stuck in an office all day. Each day should have an element of difference.
You’re your own boss and you’ll get to meet loads of different people. Oh, yes
– and I’m quite nosey too.
to the name. For this purpose I come from Grimsby and I am going to call my
agency: PIGY which stands for Private Investigations Grimsby. PICLPS (Private
Investigations Cleethorpes) doesn’t roll off the tongue quite so smoothly and I
couldn’t really use the Grimsby Dock Tower as the ‘I’. I could use the
Cleethorpes Pier as the ‘P’, I suppose, but let’s keep it as simple as
possible. My house is in Grimsby and I can’t afford a separate office so that
is that. PIGY it is (but please say it as individual letters in a drawling
probably can’t run this agency on my own. Can’t afford to pay anyone either.
I’ll have to work out some commission basis and a bit of ‘I’ll help you paint
your sitting room if you’ll give me some free hours’. I can see me doing a lot
is my first member of staff and, although a tad on the bananas-for-brains side
of the intellectual fence, she is lovely and doesn’t mind answering the phone; which
I don’t really like doing. Give me email any day. I suppose I picture myself as
Sandra Bullock’s character in the film ‘The Net’ – well, apart from the looks
and the equipment. (Just let me fantasise a little).
second member of staff is, Heaven forbid, my Mother. I just didn’t have the
heart to say no when she got all excited at the thought. She always wanted to
be a policewoman but only grew to 5’2”, in the days where size mattered. She’s
70 and pretty well knackered. Bad back, always falling over (so that’s where i
get that one from – cheers Mother), and couldn’t run for a bus never mind after
a suspect. Come to that I probably wouldn’t be that much better. I better look
out for someone fit.
seeing her back her little car out of my drive, (good grief, is this really a
good idea?), I heard her trying out names through her open window. June Cagney...Hotlips
Hopkins....Mrs. Marples (after the Teashop down Seaview Street, nothing to do
with Agatha Christie)...Mother Hari.... Thankfully she was soon out of hearing
for any other suggestions she may be concocting.