Oh dear god, sometimes to be in a Clifton coffee-shop is to be in Eton tuck shop just after supper time. Today’s highlight was ‘Rotund Man in Abercrombie Jumper and Scruffy Blonde Hair’ (RMAJSBH) invite ‘Skinny Man in Maroon Gillet with Slick Dark Hair’ (SMMGSDH) to his island for a ‘study break’. They were talking Ions, so i’m assuming they were physical scientists of some sort. Either that or they have an unnaturally large knowledge of the physical properties of Bosch crease-eliminating devices. Nonetheless, the conversation ran thusly (over a vanilla latte and a skinny macchiato – i’ll let you deduce who had what...):
RMAJSBH: So, how’s it going?
SMMGSDH: Well, pretty busy. My supervisor is practically up my arse over these Ions (Irons?)!
RMAJSBH: yar yar. Shame. Well, we could go to My Island for a study break.
SMMGSDH: Oh yar. Where is that then?
RMAJSBH: Oh it’s just some place of the South of France, it’s ours whenever we want it. I mean we have staff living there but they know we own it so they just have to clear off whenever we fancy caviar and Champers in a slightly more sunny setting. Fwnyar fnyar fnyaaaaaaaaaaaaar (the inbred version of ‘ha ha’).
SMMGSDH: Hmmm, well I would but sadly my life is not my own at the moment. The university has this absurd rule that final years need to go to at least eighty percent of their required classes. Fwnuff (the inbred equivalent of ‘tsch’).
RMAJSBH: Yar yar I thought so. Well Easter maybe, yar? You have been working pretty hard, after all. Like a whole two or three hours a week.
SMMGSDH: Hmmmmmm, I do deserve a short break I suppose. A week or two probably wouldn’t hurt. After all, I’m working on this in a team and they’re all poor so they’ll probably just spend a couple of days in Lanzarote or something for their Easter shally-do (I think this is inbred for ‘holiday’?). Sure they won’t mind picking up some slack. Probably best not leave too long though, being the only one from Eton I am sort of the self-appointed Emperor of the group after all. If i’m not around they’ll probably have eaten the fat one by the time I come back, like in that book Nanny read me.
RMAJSBH: What, Charlie and Lola Go to Market?
SMMGSDH: Something like that, yar. It had pigs in it somewhere, and I think someone in SPAIS sponges off the author’s daughter to maintain his bourgeois lifestyle while maintaining some claim to being an independent thinker within the social (fwnar fwnar) sciences. Or something. Anyway, like I said, best not be gone too long; otherwise it’ll be Rhodesia all over again. Is the land big enough to land a plane?
RMAJSBH: nnnyaaaaaaaaaar (the sound posh people make when they mean ‘no’ but are afraid saying so diminishes their social status so they make it sound as much like ‘yes’ as possible). But you could probably land a helicopter.
SMMGSDH: Pity, I could have borrowed Harry’s for the weekend. I’ve played flight simulator, how hard can it be?
Thus follows much talk of Mungo, Mindy and Mandy’s luuuuuuuuuuuuvely ‘ethnic’ do in Ceylon last year. God, I hope he tries to fly that plane...
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