If the Guardian can do 'Organic Vegetable' wallcharts for kids with biblical names I figure the Telegraph readers might go a bundle on my Fox Hunting wallchart concept - or am I stereotyping?
I took a seat on a train and was struck by the aristocratic tone of the accents behind me-a rare sound in the modern phonetic landscape, and one that often merits closer investigation. I turned round to see a girl of around 16 sitting with her father, who must have been in his late fifties.
Girl: “You know Rachel?”
Father: (Peering over the top Britain’s only remaining broadsheet) “Hmmm?”
Girl: “She faints, all the time, she doesn’t mean to, but she can’t help it.”
Father: “Yes, I know the kind of thing.”
Girl: (Tugging at the armrest) “Does the seat move?”
Father: “I imagine so.”
Girl: (Struggling with the mechanism) “How though? How?”
Father: “Backwards and forwards, like a car.”
She tipped the seat back and spilt coffee on her jumper
Girl: “It’s stained!”
Father: “How many of those jumpers do you have?”
Girl: (As though this would never be sufficient) “Three.”
Father: (Perhaps considering this excessive) “Hmm”
Girl :(Dabbing at the stain) “I can’t tell what color it should be now, or whether it’s just damp.”
Father: “Well stop rubbing it, or you might find you lose the color completely.”
Girl: (Recovering) “Thanks for coming with me on the train.”
Father: (Animated by her gratitude “Well, we were quite fortunate. Your mother dropped me off at the station last week and I noticed they had some special offers. It worked out about £20m one way.”
Girl: “Is that good?”
Father “It is good.”
‘That’s better than good’, I thought to myself. ‘ It’s cost me three times that amount, you organized bastard.’ I was angry with myself really, but for the next few minutes it was all about them.
Article by Michael Holden
Posts
