February 23, 2006
Prossie -Smart
I'm a real bugger at being faithful, i'm like a butterfly/insect sucking the nectar from one flower before getting bored and flying on to new pastures.
It's the same with Sunday Lunches......
Though i 'go my own way' in my life, i am a traditionalist where Sunday Lunch is concerned.
There isn't an establishment that has not taken my order in and around Brighton in the last few years...but no matter how tasty, and no matter how good the service...i'm on to the next eaterie, trying to find the ULTIMATE in epicurean delights....in fact, a bit like men and prostitutes.
A few weeks ago, impulse, and the fact that the 'A' board announced 'Traditional Sunday Roast-- 7.95' I ventured to sample new delights. 'That'll do for me pal' i thought.
My waiter Hayden had even featured in my Body Worship book while the other Aussie scamp took my drubbing of his Cricket team in good jest.
As usual, by the end of my repast, i had sullied my Pashmina with gravy (i order a soda water as a matter of course now).
The bill arrived. Call me old fashioned (though not to my face as i take fashion very seriously) but to me £7.95 means £7.95.
Somehow the bill had crept up to £12
'WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?'i enquired of my Aussie mate.
There was bloomin' VAT, service charge, all sorts of shite....and right at the end of the pesky add ons was: STREET SMART...HELPING THE HOMELESS.
'WHAT'S BLOODY STREET SMART?'
Hayden replied 'Oh it's some initiative that the actor Stepen Fry has started up with restaurants across the country.
It's in association with the Argus (local yokel newspaper)'
He handed me the little card that had all the blurb written on it.
'STREETSMART FUNDRAISES FOR THE HOMELESS BY ADDING A VOUNTARY £1 TO YOUR BILL....'
I started to get jolly batey.
'But it's NOT voluntary...you've just bloody took it!!!!' i complained.
'You don't HAVE TO give it' he squirmed.
'Its tossing emotional blackmail...if that twat Stepehen Fry is so concerned about the homeless, why doesn't HE just foot the bill' i said.
Before you start thinking: 'Oh dear, Letitcia isn't a very nice person is she?' allow me to share a tale.
When i arrived in Brighton after a 10 year 'lost weekend' in Australasia.......i was appalled to see homeless souls in every other doorway in what seemed to be a decrepid and decaying seaside hamlet.
There were so many that i had a dedicated street person who i chose to give my limited money to....hell...i didn't even have a job myself!!!
His pitch was outside the Body Shop, and i would bestow 'noblesse oblige' whenever i had a bag full of coins.
I heard the sob story in technicolour, giving him advise and encouragement (gee i wish someone could have done the same for me) when i felt it was needed.
Suddenly he disappeared.
Some months later, there he was again looking suntanned fit and healthy.
'Wow, you're looking well' i exclaimed 'where have you been?'
This was his reply.
'OH MAAAAAN, IT WAS AAAAAAWSOME, LIIIIKE WOW Y'KNOW.....GOA IS SUCH A TRIPPY PLACE DUDE'
The import of his words slowly sunk in.
'You've been on HOLIDAY' i said with a vestige of forced bonhommie.
''Yeah' thanks for all your help, can't wait to get back there and you know maaaaaaaan, just smoke reefers all day long and CHILL out'
I walked away without saying goodbye, knowing that if i stayed, justifiable homicide would be the outcome.
CHILL OUT?
HE HADN'T DONE ANYTHING TO CHILL OUT FROM.
My heart closed, and has not opened since to the 'homeless'
Charity in MY case begins at home, and i work hard to have one.
'Street smart' can kiss my arse
Posted by Letitcia at 10:48 PM | Comments (0)
July 24, 2005
I've 'ad 'im
It's inevitable.
If a swish, swank, hip -hop -happening - eating place to see and be seen opens in Brighton---and if that place is fairly elitest and expensive---then as sure as eggs are eggs I AM GOING TO BUMP INTO LOADS OF MY PUNTERS (and their wives)
They are the only people who can afford it
It's all very amusing-----
I do wish some of my patrons wouldn't give me the kind of look which says: 'you should be manacled to your work bench (bed) until you are required again'---like i'm some sub species that doesn't socialise or have an ORDINARY social life.
So it was one Sunday lunchtime and the luxurious resteraunt was RAMMED TO THE GILLS with 'those who have been Body Worshipped'
You have to feel for the guys, there they are hosting and paying for a get together with family and friends and their OTHER LIFE is sitting at another table wearing a hat and an enigmatic smile
They go some pretty strange colours--- (what i term a kaliedescope of guilt or shame):-----white, green or red.
I swear i even saw the colour purple once.
I can practically set my watch by the number of days that it will be (2 or 3)before i see them again.
I get interrogated as to who i was with, how did i know them---did they know of our association.
Make no mistake, they come to see me precisely because i AM confidential and then question to what degree, when i have the temerity to set foot outside my front door and do NORMAL stuff,just like normal people do.
Some of them panic so much that they FOLLOW ME TO THE LOO (i am not making this up)to say:'Don't say anything'.
This is highly offensive.
I would never dream of putting a patron in a compromising position by looking in his direction for a nanosecond longer than is usual--though on this particular day it would have been a scream to stand up, bash on a glass for silence and proclaim: I've had him, i've had him---and him---and since i never forget a face i've sat on---HIM as well.
Now that's what i would call a KODAK moment.
Posted by Letitcia at 11:44 PM | Comments (0)