Sunday, August 16, 2009

You know...for bears

The other day I was standing at the bar of a once brilliant- now awful- pub in Islington whose declivity is reflected in the fact that the menu doesn't refer to cheese as cheese but rather as "cow's curd."

The women standing next to me was incredibly posh with blond hair and an expensive handbag; she was anything between 28 and 40 years old- probably closer to 28 but her sloaney outfit betrayed her youth. She was in conversation with the bar man, I had been waiting a while and so resented their false camaraderie until the conversation turned...

Woman: Oh god I'm just so shattered at the moment...

Barman: Really?

Woman: Yah, my sister and I have just started a charity. I'm working all the hours God's sends its farking awful.

Barman: That sounds great though, what kind of charity?

Woman: A bear charity.

Barman: A bear charity?

Woman: Yes, that's right, a charity for bears

Barman: What kind of bears?

Woman: ALL bears (she pauses) we DON'T discriminate.




God bless you Islington. God bless you

2 comments:

Ariel said...

You are a terribly hilarious writer. Thanks for making my day better.

Tomas said...

Sudden urge to donate to the bears. Oh teddy.

Bromptons... High street Kensington in case you are in need of some peculiar eyewear.