An amusing day in the life story, about Britishness, fish and chips and a reminder to keep calm and carry on

Authenticme By Authenticme, 5th Oct 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL
Posted in Wikinut>Humour>Funny Stories

An entertaining story of a daytrip, Britisness, fish and chips and frowning!

Haddock is not cod!

On noticing that I am developing frown lines, and all too cynical an outlook, I have decided to literally put sellotape on my forehead (not the whole forehead, just the frowny bit). So far it's working, and do you know, I do feel that little bit more positive already. It's either the sellotape, or the sugar high from burger king's yummy icecream sundae I treated myself to tonight. Classy. Well, it was a summer's evening, and the fancy took me.

Not wanting to bore you, I shall recount my musings of today. The first one was something that got my back up slightly, in a chippy in Bournemouth. Harry Ramsden's to be precise, it was an at-beach-must-eat-chips kind of day. So, I queued up, very Britishly (take notes, people, queuing is still the done thing), and waited for the sole (get it, fish shop, sole) server to finish helping the couple infront of me. He was taking his sweet time, to the rolled eyes of his colleagues, but I took it in my stride - though did feel a little like Mr Darcy's girlfriend's character in Bridget Jones 1 - '''does nothing work outside of London, hmm?'

It was what he said next that I felt the need to correct - 'we only have haddock today, but cod and haddock taste the same', in an Italian accent. I felt the need to point out that, in fact, they do not, but found myself sounding quite righteous in my delivery. I don't know what caused this knee-jerk reaction in me, maybe it was that I was gagging for chips, maybe it was that in Harry Ramsden's you'd expect better service, maybe it was that need to somehow uphold the idea of 'Britishness'. Anyway, after striding purposefully along the seafront to find cod and chips, as you would expect in a seaside town, yet finding neither cod nor a cashpoint, I finally ended up back at Harry Ramsden's behind a sizeable (and frought-looking) queue.

The server looked as though he was in training, so I cut my losses and went upstairs to the 'seated' section. I ordered my nice little Harry special, WITH cod (yay), got a seat in the path of the sun, and exhaled. Cue very British (and loud) family, who moved their table inches from mine into the sun. I found myself yomming down my chips that little bit quicker, avoiding eye contact (as perfected daily on the tube), and skidaddling outta there pronto. They were your postcard British seaside family, complete with sunburn and fags. Having been all too keen to uphold 'Britishness', I couldn't handle it in its true sense, up close and personal.

Moral of the story? I really do need to get out of London more often to smooth out the frown lines - and shake off the Hyacincth Bouquet. And to reaquaint myself with what Britishness is - variety is the spice of life, who cares if it's haddock not cod - next time I'll just go with it. Fish and chips wouldn't be the same without coke, which was a US import anyway!


Britishness, Chill Out, Daytrip, Outlook

Meet the author

author avatar Authenticme
I'm an actor, musician, teacher and life coach. I will be publishing articles related to those topics, as well as common interest topics

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author avatar Mark Gordon Brown
5th Oct 2013 (#)

Pretty funny tale!

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author avatar Michelle Stanley
11th Oct 2013 (#)

You have a good sense of humour which is evident throughout your article. The story is nicely written and interesting to read.

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author avatar Authenticme
12th Oct 2013 (#)

Thanks Michelle!

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