Pardon Me, I am British. Er...please. Thank you. Ever so much. Awfully.

[rebness]

Anyone who knows me knows how proud I am to be European. They'll also know that I'm marginally less proud, but still happy, to be British. However, there's one thing that drives me mad about my culture, and which I wish I could overcome... the British fear of complaining.

Oh, sure. We're the nastiest, snarkiest, most sarcastic of races. We'll bitch and whine and moan when the waiter brings our steak and it's still bloody, or has been cremated. We'll mutter about how terrible the government is, our media will always knock people down with glee-- but we never, ever, ever bitch to someone's face. We won't call the waiter back and tell them the food sucks. We won't whine to the bank about poor service. We're Anally, Awfully Polite, By Gosh.

There's a woman who works in my office who lived in America up until about a year ago. She is the best of every American stereotype: strong, loud, outspoken, friendly, confident. In the Mental Health Directorate, we always order our sandwiches from this nice bar down the road which also does boxed salads. Coronation chicken is ambrosia from the Gods.

Except for today, when mine tasted eggy, sour and, with each passing bite, I remembered the duck which poisoned me this year and had me in agony for two days. Couple this with the fact I am still bloody ill, and I was panicking. So I'm sitting there, bitching about how awful my coronation chicken was, how I was going to die, etc. American woman looks at me and says, "Phone them up and complain!"

"I can't!" I cried, "I just can't!"

"Of course you can. You said it was awful. We paid for the service, and it sucked."

"I...no, I can't."

"For God's sake. Let the American handle this." She picks up the phone and dials. I breathe a sigh of relief. American woman will handle it and I don't have to be horrible to the sandwich people. "Yes, yes," she says, "let me put the lady through."

I panic as my 'phone rings. What follows is a stuttered, mumbled explanation followed by me apologising for being so much trouble, but would she mind terribly that her chicken is off?

"Well," sniffed the baker, after offering me another salad as compensation (er, no thanks) "we haven't had any other complaints."

And that's just the thing. Around this city now, dozens of people will be gagging and choking on their salmonella chicken, but will they complain, bless their British souls?

Will they feck. Bah.

Comments

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Ewww. You're making me feel less sorry for myself with my eggy chicken. Must...complain!

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

Don't feel bad, eggy chicken can kill you. It's doubtful that a bad batch of Sprite will kill anyone, but cheesy chicken nuggets from Red Rooster, on the other hand, are total weapons of death.

[rebness.livejournal.com]

See, cheese is so easily turned to meng. Couple that with chicken and the fact that nuggets are probably in the top ten of Dubious Foods, and I'm completely off my lunch. :p

Ooh! KitKat!

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

Chicken and cheese together is always pretty disgusting. EXCEPT, when I'm eating cold roast chicken, I like tasty or cheddar cheese at the same time. But not together. With white bread and apple juice. Mmmmmm!

I have American chocolate from zhonghua2000. You're soooo jealous, aren't you. :D

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Totally. Except for the part where mine arrived a few days ago and I savaged that poor snowman's head good! Hahahaha!

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

... I don't have a snowman.

SHERYL WHY DOES BECKY GET A SNOWMAN AND I DON'T

Speaking of Christmas candy, I used to love these jelly pops that you get from Woolworths and Target, right. They were jelly in the shape of, like, Santa Claus and teddy bears and things, on a stick, with sugary bits to break your teeth on. But this Christmas they're all chocolate-coated, which is just weird! I want a normal jelly pop! :(

Also that icon is cool but slightly suspect depending on the context in which you use it.

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Oh, you know. Chocolate snowmen goes so well with a molested prime minister.

I get a snowman because I ROCK. The end.

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

She probably didn't want to insult my non-snow-getting sensibilities. Smart girl, that Sheryl. She thinks about things. UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE.

I am sensitive!

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Hush, you.

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Also, the chocolate was Canadian, sourced from Belgian chocolate. I was so psyched to be an English person, newly returned from Spain, eating a Canadian product made using Belgian chocolate sent to me by an American.

Oh, the internationalness of me.

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

What you really mean here is the pretentiousness of you. You're lucky I'm around to correct when you've gone wrong.

You haven't told me about Spain yet, wench, and if you don't soon or I'll just never want to hear. Also about Mary and Elizabeth (not the mother and aunt of Jesus, the royalty).

[rebness.livejournal.com]

You're just jealous because you didn't nearly get into a fight with an old Spanish lady. Nur.

First part of Spain coming up today. If I was really pretentious, I'd call it Espana.

I really liked Espana.

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

I have enough fights with old English ladies. Although the use of 'old' and 'lady' here can both be disputed. :p ("But I'm a laaady!")

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Haha. Brilliant. Now I need an icon of that. My picture quota will be taken up by all of Little Britain at this rate. :p

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

I would offer to make the font on that icon not look hideous, but I'm sucky at text too. But you should ask someone else to help you in your need.

And when did you get a paid account, anyway? You're supposed to be poor. :p

KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!

[rebness.livejournal.com]

It's at times like this that I realise I still need my "Bitch, Please" Johnny icon. >:

Oh, you know. I got tired of the hideous purple. And it was only £2.50 for a couple of months. Bargain!

Also, thanks, Dad.

Nur I have fifteen (rubbishy) icons!

Re: KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

You should have bought credit for your phone instead. Not that you need it, except for sending me messages at 3am, so perhaps it's for the best.

I can't get no satisfaction

[rebness.livejournal.com]

That would have been £10 minimum, or the equivalent of a year's paid LJ account. Stupid damned expensive mobile 'phones.

However-- 3am wake-up calls are indeed a strong incentive. Hmm. *strokes chin.*

At this point, I realise that I need a "Cunning Plan" Blackadder icon. :(

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

See! You got a paid account and it didn't bring you happiness.

Chocolate brings me happiness.

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Amelie and her quinze laugh in your face.

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

Chocolate is still better.

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[rebness.livejournal.com]

You are strange. I am going to write an ode to chocolate and throw myself off a cliff now because I don't have any Dairy Milk.

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

You shouldn't have been in such a hurry to savage that snowman, then, should you.

Oh dear. I just remembered the piece of Baci cake I shared with a friend when we got coffee after work instead of going for a walk. The calories, the calories!

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[rebness.livejournal.com]

Hahaha. Your hips shall hate you now. Maybe they'll run off with my liver.

Didn't order lunch today because of the poison chicken. That means... *drum roll* 2,000 step walk! ARRGH.

I have a pedometer, you know.

Re: I can't get no satisfaction

[saffronlie.livejournal.com]

I bet your liver's a hussy. My hips shall stay faithful.

2,000 step walk where? I bought my Dad one of those for Christmas but SSHH DON'T TELL HIM.