One More Cup Of Coffee
Postmodern Sass Goes To The U.K. Part I
I'm leaving Bristol early tomorrow morning for Glasgow, where I hope to catch my connecting flight to Toronto, but I fear I might not make it because there's only an hour window, and what with the events of the last few days here in the U.K. — Live 8; the G8 summit and violent protests in Edinburgh; London winning the 2012 Olympics bid; terrorist attacks this morning; — I don't expect anything to be normal. But if my worst case scenario is having to stay the night in Glasgow, that won't be too bad. I hear they have quite the single malt collection in that country.
Three of my PhD buddies were here this week: Dale, Denise, and Hutch. Dale and Denise have already left for home. Hutch is here with me right now, at the next desk in the graduate students' research centre, writing up a report for his thesis advisor while I write to you, Gentle Reader. Hutch is planning to leave here tomorrow morning and spend a couple of days in London before his flight home.
He doesn't know what just happened there.
This place, it's like a whole other country.
This morning I wandered to the local Sainsbury's, the East Filton Sainsbury's, and had the all day breakfast with my coffee. To us, all day breakfast is a concept. To them, it's a single menu item consisting of a plate of beans topped with a fried egg and surrounded with a greasy sausage and a shriveled piece of what looks like ham, but what I believe they refer to as bacon.
* * * Go to Postmodern Sass Goes To The U.K. Part II
I'm leaving Bristol early tomorrow morning for Glasgow, where I hope to catch my connecting flight to Toronto, but I fear I might not make it because there's only an hour window, and what with the events of the last few days here in the U.K. — Live 8; the G8 summit and violent protests in Edinburgh; London winning the 2012 Olympics bid; terrorist attacks this morning; — I don't expect anything to be normal. But if my worst case scenario is having to stay the night in Glasgow, that won't be too bad. I hear they have quite the single malt collection in that country.
Three of my PhD buddies were here this week: Dale, Denise, and Hutch. Dale and Denise have already left for home. Hutch is here with me right now, at the next desk in the graduate students' research centre, writing up a report for his thesis advisor while I write to you, Gentle Reader. Hutch is planning to leave here tomorrow morning and spend a couple of days in London before his flight home.
He doesn't know what just happened there.
The flat I'm staying in near the campus is lovely, clean, and fully equipped — it even has a washing machine — except there's no coffee maker. There's a jar of instant coffee in the cupboard, and a fancy electronic kettle, the likes of which I've never seen. Call me a snob but I won't drink instant coffee under any circumstances. Instant coffee is coffee to me in much the same way that Tang is orange juice, which is to say, not at all.THEY SAY: tube station
WE SAY: subway station
This place, it's like a whole other country.
So every morning I've had to leave the flat in search of coffee before the withdrawl headache sets in. I might be able to get one more cup of coffee before I go.THEY SAY: ring me
WE SAY: call me
This morning I wandered to the local Sainsbury's, the East Filton Sainsbury's, and had the all day breakfast with my coffee. To us, all day breakfast is a concept. To them, it's a single menu item consisting of a plate of beans topped with a fried egg and surrounded with a greasy sausage and a shriveled piece of what looks like ham, but what I believe they refer to as bacon.
Ah, British cuisine. Beans, or chips, or both, with every meal. It's all been downhill since Saturday night at Jane's, when her husband prepared a fabulous four course meal and seemed thrilled to have appreciative guests.THEY SAY: rashers of bacon
WE SAY: slices of bacon
THEY SAY: chips
WE SAY: french fries
I'll tell you all about that next time.THEY SAY: partner
WE SAY: girlfriend/boyfriend, or wife/husband
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