Went in a cafe of the wrong class today. [sad face]

eating out (sorry!)

There are gradations and boundaries to earing out that are changing all the time and impossible to navigate......last year we unwittingly stopped off in Burnham Market after a trip to the beach. We tried to enter what looked like a Mediterranean cafe, only to find ourselves bounced back by an invisible force field of disapproval as all conversation stopped and the entirely Breton top wearing clientele gazed at us from behind their sunglasses. I reversed nervously through the door with a child in each hand and back to the car for a quick getaway. I later found it sold food entirely from its own Italian estate, flown in daily. DD was wearing small amount of Mini-Boden that day but it offered no protection whatsoever. I think I may complain to Johnnie.

Oh hazey that is so bad. I bet your footwear and clothing are very different now?
(Reminds self to call and apologise to Mum for moaning on and on about her insistence on Russell and Bromley)

Mary Janes. Painted in red. With gypsy caravan style decoration. They were as shit as they sound, and with my hodge podge clothes, NHS glasses and hair thatb looked like it could fry a spam fritter, earned me the nickname JumbleSale. Cheers dad!

I personally like a bit of coffee mate in instant coffee. LeavezsLeavezs a nice coating on thebroof of your mouth. But then I also like hot, frothed soya milk in a proper cup of coffee. I'm a mess!

Our Gregg's has stopped selling pies!! What is that about? It's a pie shop isn't it?!

The thread that keeps on giving!

I was once served tea with Carnation milk by a new boyfriend. I almost dumped him but he was from Ghana so I put it down to "culture" and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Students are immune to normal class distinctions because they're always assumed to be broke as their natural state - so things like hanging milk on a carrier out of the window or eating at the grimmest possible eating establishments is perfectly normal no matter what class they are by birth and where they're studying. The occasional ones who are very well funded by parents and continue to drink decent wine rather than snakebite and black are the oddities.

*Colloquial; missed out a lo there, evidently it was too close to lol, and this is certainly not a laughing matter.

I avoid quinoa, it's such a minefield. I try to avoid going down the aisle if I'm alerted to the fact it's on a shelf down there.

In face life's worldful of minefield words: chippers are chippys here too, don't even start me on the colquial word for sandwich.

I drink my tea black.

Well, that pot has the benefit that no-one would nick it.

I presume you checked her bag, to see if she has any glass balls?!

Why would you keep glass balls in a bag? Why would you need multiple balls? Why not just look at the glass ball bag to establish the class of the cafe based on what the glass ball reader had procured?

Details! Or you just create more questions

hazey what kind of shoes? I am picturing wooden clogs.

spare I took that to mean you literally poured the milk into the carrier bag at first... it's definitely time for bed.

I find UHT skimmed milk is ok if I cant get fresh - its the fatty constituents which change flavour when heat treated, I think.

Or a carrier bag to put milk into and hang off out of the window. That's what we did at university to stop food being stolen from the communal fridge
But it was a RG university - very middle middle with upper middle things like quads so it isn't as working as it might sound on first read

Fresh milk in tea is always possible. You need two flasks - one for hot water, another for cold milk.

Love it hazeyjane. I feel your young selfs pain!

FruitCider it'seems only fair to tell you that that particular bit of that particular city has gone up in the world. The term 'gentrification' definitely applies. As for that cafe, they even sell halloumi and the chips come in buckets. Oh,and drizzling. Cool place though.

Oh kitkat I bet you didn't even do that in an ironic manner!

I thought of this thread just now when I obtained the most working class dining-related injury known to man. Basically it's take-away night in our house, and me and DH agreed to get a chippy tonight. All was going swimmingly with all the greasy, battered goodness until I dropped some lava-hot mushy peas down my cleavage, and have therefore burnt my left boob on mushy peas.

hazey did your Dad hate you, or something???

hazeyjane

Rofl lolololololol😊😁😂' 😃😂- 😅😆☺😀😂😄😂😀😇😆😀😆😆

I'd like to think there was a good reason for my dad to paint my shoes with folk art designs and it was good for building my character to stand out etc, but in reality I think he was just a bit of a bellend.

I went to Scotland one to the chipper (see they didn't even call it a chippy!) they were offering such delights as battered slice of meat feast pizza! Now that is the future right there! I didn't have one but it looked grand. It reminded me of our school youth club that would batter anything you bought in, they meant mars bars and the like but naturally we took the piss and started battering starburst and the like.

Cafes are a mine field, we don't have many left around these parts that won't try and add a swirl of some oily shite to your plate in the name of presentation. The bastards!

Hand. Painted. Shoes? What Fresh Hell is this?