Down at heel
I went into town yesterday.
Town has always been a haven for Skobies, and I was shocked to find that they were in a minority. The place has been overrun with foreigners. I was relieved though to see that the foreigners are learning fast.
All the foreign girls are getting pregnant as fast as they can, and are pushing prams around to get into practice. They are getting very adept at the knack of pushing a pram while lighting a cigarette and talking loudly into their mobile phones all at the same time.
All the foreign lads are learning the tricks of hanging around the betting shops and throwing empty lager cans at their passing women.
In no time at all, Skobieville will be back to normal, but with different languages.
One of the reasons I went into town was to buy a pair of shoes, as the soles had fallen off my old ones.
I’m fussy about shoes. I couldn’t give a damn what they look like as long as they are comfortable and hard wearing. I went through quite a selection before finding a lovely pair. The girl who was serving me had a lovely pair too. [She was foreign, of course]
I was about to pay when Herself turned up. I threw her out because she was smoking a fag, and that’s not allowed in town. But she put it out, and came back in.
“You’re not buying those?” she said in horror.
“Why not?”
“Because they are lime green. You’d look a right eejit.”
“What about these then?”
“No. Not in a thousand years.”
“Why not?”
“Because they have little lights that flash in the heels. Everyone will laugh at you.”
I sighed, and picked an ordinary pair of shoes. They weren’t quite as comfortable as the others, but I prefer discomfort to nagging.
The only problem is that the heels aren’t quite as thick as the old ones. So if I stand still for more than a moment or two, I fall over backwards. Herself has to keep picking me up.
Serves her right for being so picky.
Town? Go to Coleman’s in Sandyford. Proper bloke shop. My sister in law won’t go there, it has too much testosterone and makes her feel uncomfortable. Also because it is designed so that you typically have to go up to the proprietor and say “I want [insert item required here]” whereupon said item is retrieved, paid for and the activity of shopping ends. As opposed to wandering aimlessly for an interminable time touching random objects and accumulating unnecessary crud that is 70% off.
Thrifty – Sandyford is The City. Too far. I know Colemans well though. Our K8 used to work there, and Sandyford House was my watering hole for many years.
Very good. Well, ’tis my local now.
Don’t tell me that old miser Myles is still in charge? 😉
I think it’s Myles, it’s the same soft spoken long talkin’ fella the ten years we’ve been here in any case, though he’s given the smokes up since.
Heh! I used to go to school with him. It’s about thirty years since I was in the place. Knowing him, he’s still using the same beermats. I have wrecked that kip more than once in the past 😉
Ah, crossed wires, I was describing the proprietor of Coleman’s, not sure about the Sandyford House, it got done up a couple of years ago but I think the ownership is the same. I mostly encounter the lounge staff while myself and my daughter’s primary school principal talk shite.
Sorry to interrupt you blokes . . .someone once told me of a burgler who broke into a 7/11 in the US and nicked the till money. The police chased him and he was an easy catch even though it was a dark night because he had those runners on with the lights in the heels and was easily seen in the dark. Don’t worry about the shoes … they’ll soon bend to your foot a bit like wallets do to your back pocket!
Hey Baino, how’s the form? You know Coleman’s sell blunnies 😉
Foreigners do work.
Even when there were more job vacancies than people unemployed, some of our local population refused to demean themselves by taking paid employment
Ian – Speaking from first hand experience, I would be reluctant to employ anyone else. Once I get over the language barrier, I find them extremely courteous, very hard working and efficient.
Ah you should’ve bought yourself a set of Heelys! They would be extremely handy for getting to the kettle in a tea emergency 🙂
@Thriftcriminal; I loved working in Coleman’s… I worked under a chap named Andy Senior who let me dole out prescriptions even though I wasn’t qualified! He used to spend most of his time studying the gee-gees in the paper and placing bets in-between chain smoking. He was the best skin specialist I’ve ever known – his concoctions brought people from all over Ireland for cures. Is he still alive? I hope so.
I also worked under Andy Junior who ran the veterinary/horsey department. He was a conundrum. He kept a baseball bat covered in 9-inch nails under the counter to brandish at potential thieves and had a strangely low opinion of women, even though we got on very well.
@K8: I don’t know that he is still alive. I know I had a conversation covering the topic with what must be Andy Junior but I don’t remember what he said. Odd fish but a nice enough chap. What you say fits with the character alright. Now he sells all manner of walking/camping/horse riding/skiing gear and Blundstone boots from down under (blunnies). It’s a great spot, I’d highly recommend it, nothing like bloody 53 degrees north: “hi, yah, I’d like to look like I go walking, but not like, actually sweat, you know…”.
Thrifty,
Should “Hi yah” not be preceded by “Ohmygod” or some other equally inane D4 comment?
@Ian: Good call!