Peas in Pods
I think I've said before on this blog that I absolutely love eating raw peas. I often buy a whole bagful of peas in pods from the supermarket and just eat my way through them a few at a time.
For goodness' sake, stop looking at me like that! There are stranger habits! There are worse things to eat! In fact I'm sure that, as snacks go, they're pretty healthy. I don't smoke. I don't drink. Everyone's got to have a guilty pleasure. Mine is raw peas, okay?
I'm glad we've cleared that up.
I was pleased to discover from her blog that Jay likes them too. And so does her dog. So it's not just me. So there. Oh, stop looking at me as though you'd just found me poring over nude photos of Bernard Manning, will you?
Anyway. The last couple of times I've been in a supermarket - let us call it Coste, good name eh? I have arrived at the checkout with my bag of garden peas and sundry other items which did NOT include the Naked Bernard Manning Photo Book.
Checkout Assistant stares at my bag of peas in puzzlement.
"So what's them, then?"
"They're peas."
"Yerwha'?"
"They're garden peas."
"Like how d'yer mean?"
"Peas."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure. They're garden peas. In pods."
She sighed and gave me a look of deep distrust mingled with incomprehension. Ah, so far from Nature have we travelled!
And could I just point out that this conversation happened not once, but twice, on subsequent visits to The Supermarket I Shall Call Coste.
I give it five years before this conversation will take place:
Checkout Assistant: "So what are these, then?"
Me: "Can you guess? Clue's in the colour."
Checkout Assistant: "Yerwha'?"
Me: "What colour are they?"
Checkout Assistant: "Like how d'yer mean?"
Me: "What. Colour. Are. They?"
Checkout Assistant: "Orange."
Me: "So what do you think they might be?"
Checkout Assistant: "Yerwha'?"
Sometimes I long for the days when the Greengrocer's Lad brought your order round in his bike basket.
For goodness' sake, stop looking at me like that! There are stranger habits! There are worse things to eat! In fact I'm sure that, as snacks go, they're pretty healthy. I don't smoke. I don't drink. Everyone's got to have a guilty pleasure. Mine is raw peas, okay?
I'm glad we've cleared that up.
I was pleased to discover from her blog that Jay likes them too. And so does her dog. So it's not just me. So there. Oh, stop looking at me as though you'd just found me poring over nude photos of Bernard Manning, will you?
Anyway. The last couple of times I've been in a supermarket - let us call it Coste, good name eh? I have arrived at the checkout with my bag of garden peas and sundry other items which did NOT include the Naked Bernard Manning Photo Book.
Checkout Assistant stares at my bag of peas in puzzlement.
"So what's them, then?"
"They're peas."
"Yerwha'?"
"They're garden peas."
"Like how d'yer mean?"
"Peas."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure. They're garden peas. In pods."
She sighed and gave me a look of deep distrust mingled with incomprehension. Ah, so far from Nature have we travelled!
And could I just point out that this conversation happened not once, but twice, on subsequent visits to The Supermarket I Shall Call Coste.
I give it five years before this conversation will take place:
Checkout Assistant: "So what are these, then?"
Me: "Can you guess? Clue's in the colour."
Checkout Assistant: "Yerwha'?"
Me: "What colour are they?"
Checkout Assistant: "Like how d'yer mean?"
Me: "What. Colour. Are. They?"
Checkout Assistant: "Orange."
Me: "So what do you think they might be?"
Checkout Assistant: "Yerwha'?"
Sometimes I long for the days when the Greengrocer's Lad brought your order round in his bike basket.
posted by Daphne at 10:53 pm
3 Comments:
I almost hate you for placing a picture in my mind of Bernard Manning naked but love you for reminding me of the greengrocer's deliveries. Except ours used to come round in a van which was basically a mobile greengrocery. The van would park outside our house and we would go down with mum who would buy our fruit and veg, sometimes including peas in the pod which we would help her pod and often eat raw. However, I could never view the van in quite the same way after seeing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang because I was a tiny bit scared of the greengrocer himself and thought he might be like the child catcher and if you went into the van, it would turn into a cage. Strangely enough it never did.
I've been at checkouts a couple of times and had to identify parsnips and a cauliflower to the checkout assistants so that they knew what to charge for! Not here in Wales though. ;)
See, if you liked toast, that wouldn't happen!
I'm so sorry...but can you tell which one of your blogs has stuck with me the most. I swear that Den and I laugh every day about this. Inevitably, during each and every day, one of us will say 'I like toast', and then we laugh.
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