English reserve
Ok, so I don't know where the reputation for English people being reserved originated, but I think the odds of it coming from London are slim to non existent. Take the other night for example: I'd just walked down to our local recycling drop off station to throw out the cardboard packaging for our new bed. (I figure that working for an organisation whose sole purpose is to increase recycling in London that I should perhaps myself occasionally recycle.) On the way back, as I was walking past one of our local restaurants a guy sitting at one of the tables called out to me, "Oi mate!" I turned around to see what this friendly new mate of mine had to say to me, only to be informed, "You sure got one massive 'ead on ya!"
Now while I must begrudgingly congratulate this gentleman on his powers of observation - it generally takes people more than 10 seconds to realise that the percentage of hats large enough to accommodate my noggin is small indeed - at the time I found myself staring at him confused as to how to respond to his somewhat unorthodox ice breaker. So I turned to leave. And I'm pretty sure that as I was leaving, one of his friends called out to me to ask whether I had a spare cigarette. Best though out plan for getting a spare cigarette? No. Reserved? I think not.
Now while I must begrudgingly congratulate this gentleman on his powers of observation - it generally takes people more than 10 seconds to realise that the percentage of hats large enough to accommodate my noggin is small indeed - at the time I found myself staring at him confused as to how to respond to his somewhat unorthodox ice breaker. So I turned to leave. And I'm pretty sure that as I was leaving, one of his friends called out to me to ask whether I had a spare cigarette. Best though out plan for getting a spare cigarette? No. Reserved? I think not.
posted by The Flying V at 9:34 pm
4 Comments:
He sure hit the nail right on it's humongous head.
Biggy nog... HAHAHAHA
Wow, I've actually never thought of your head as being big... I'm going to have to go back through all our old photos now...
Not quite picking up on the theme of cranial capacity, but on the other subjects of English reserve and cigarette attainment...
While a friend was a student in Liverpool, living in a typical male student dominated mid-terrace house, with about 6 of them there, a constant mess, bodies, beer cans and playstation controllers eveywhere, a bicycle firmly rusted to the radiator in the hall, (you get the picture) there was a ring at the doorbell.
Andy ambled to the door to find a local Scallie Kid of about 9.
(Not sure about the spelling of Scallie, but think enterprising chav, more likely to be shoplifting, car stealing, cider drinking, generally up to no good.)
"Hey mister have you got a spare ciggie ?"
"What ? I'm not giving you a cigarette."
"Right well someone will"
and with that the young 'scam' ducks past Andy into the hall down to the main room where he tries to find more cigarettes from the dazed student body wondering who the hell this little urchin is.
It took a little while for them to chase hin out - He got no cigarettes.
I'll need to check with Andy, I don't recall if they were broken into soon afterwards, or if this 'recce' proved the house had absolutley nothing worth taking, except perhaps for an avid collector of FHM back issues.
[chuckle] No pun intended!
I hope there was a collection of beer holders or at least coasters to go with the FHM.
When we first moved here and were looking for a sharehouse we went to see a place Way The Hell Eastside. It was a student place, which in hindsight should have ruled it out immediately, but it was really cheap and the people seemed nice.
The place was filthy (and not in the Gold Coast sense of the word). Clutter and dirt everywhere. To go with the beer and FHM in your story, there were also: a random collection of guitars and drums, strewn books which may have started off on the bookshelf but were now edging their way to the opposing wall, clothes where the carpet should have been, and a thick layer of grime on every surface imaginable.
On the way there we past derelict front 'garden' after derelict front 'garden', and a local off-licence with shots through the windows.
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