The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

There were about six, maybe more around a courtyard area. All at least 15
storeys high, painted dark green and a shade of the colour spectrum that Dulux
may have named Dog Sick Autumn.
“Some are. Some are offices. There is a dentist there and a hair stylist over
there.” She said pointing at different buildings.
I got envious as I spied some nice modern buildings which where yellow and
black, they looked like office buildings with restaurant cafes on the ground
floor. Our building had a man in a wheel chair with a comb over who tried to
start a conversation with me.
“What does he want?” I asked.
“Ignore him. He is just a cripple.” She said striding towards the lifts.
Well I should say lift and this wasn’t the modern transporter that I had at
Granny Towers this didn’t even have an automatic door that opened and closed.
You opened a door with a latch, stepped inside, pressed the floor you wanted
then watched as the open side of the lift slowly took you past doors and walls,
door then wall, door then wall.
Finally we arrived on the 11 th floor and disembarked. I’d keep fit taking the
stairs I thought. That was until I arrived at work one morning to find tramps
sleeping in the stairwell on the third floor and hoping over them was a
dangerous and smelly activity.