A man walks into a pub…

… this isn’t the setup to a joke because that man was me, and what happened next was more shocking than funny.

Me: “Pint of Niche-Micro Brewery Bitter markteted especially for ale snobs such as myself and a packet of your finest pork scratchings

Barman: “Sorry, we’re out of pork scratchings

Me: “What? One of the few reasons I patronise your pub is for the joy of crackling some pork* while appreciatively quaffing a dodgy beverage thrice hopped and ten times overpriced

Barman: “Just no demand for them anymore I’m afraid”

Me: “Not true, I’m demanding them. Right now.

Barman: “Sorry, no can do**, new rules you see” [jerks derisive thumb] ‘head office say we have to sell healthy snacks

Me: [full turn to take in fifteen builders bellys, twenty guys in suits with a hand shaky alcohol dependency and ol’ bob comatose and dribbling under his favourite table] “It’s not a bloody Gym in here. Everything south of the entrance is unhealthy and that includes those dodgy sausages you’re pretending aren’t leaving a horse missing a vital appendage

Barman: [Leans elbows on bar in accordance with Publican’s subliminal messages section 4.1 “Customer starting to piss me off”]”Look, we’re trialling this new ‘healthy scratchings”, have a bag on the house

Me: [on return from explosive mental orbit]”What madness is that? We’re talking about supsicious pig scrapings double deep fried and then fried again to be absolutely sure they’re unhealthy enough. You cannot make a Scratching that does not fur up artories and root symptoms for four major diseases. It’s like trying to sell a Lighter Choice Deep Fried Mars Bar

Barman: [Spoken]: “Here’s your beer” [Unspoken] “Now fuck off

My moral compass would have vibrated angrily to an exit direction had I not already paid for my drink. Instead, I explained to almost no one who was interested, that this represented the passing of another British Icon.

I’ve already lamented the loss of the car and motorbike industry and the demise of our civil engineering heritage, surely I cannot suffer the lopping off of yet another cultural emblem?

I blame St. George. Once you start importing patron saints from Portugal, the death of scratchings is sadly inevitable πŸ™

* An activity still punishable by ‘random insertion of pig knuckle sandwich’ in some US states

** That kind of lazy grammar slang makes me mad. A Pig Knuckle Sandwich up the japs eye is too good for them.

3 thoughts on “A man walks into a pub…”

  1. Im deeply saddened by this shocking trend. if I visit the homeland that was on the list of “things to do alot” as the US idea of pork scratching is not dis-similar to fried dust with bacon essence. Actually the Mexican supermarkets come a bit closer but nothing as hairy or suspicious as it should be . . .

  2. “Lamented the loss of the car and motorbike industry?” You’ll be on your own there then, as, let’s face it, both were utterly shite.

    Oh, and St George was Turkish, not Portuguese, if you’re going off on one, get it right.

    You’re barred… πŸ™‚

  3. Apparently not. He was probably a Greek originally. Anyway, the Internet confirms I’m right and you’re wrong: http://www.britannia.com/history/stgeorge.html

    πŸ™‚

    And how can you say that about the legendary British car industry? Don’t you remember the Austin Princess? Ok, I’ll give you that one !

    Brad – it’s the thin end of the wedge, er, pig πŸ™

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