Some Random Conversations From Last Weekend
19:20 PM Thursday 13 July
Paulo and I flew to Bournemouth last Thursday with Ryanair (or more appropriately Ryanmare). The flight was OK but the landing was a (near) disaster. Now, I have been on flights before with dodgy landings but this had to be one of the worst that I have ever experienced. The plane actually touched down (actually, it just dropped down) then went back up in the air for a second and dropped down on the runway again. I would estimate that we were going about 50-75 miles an hour too fast to land as the plane swerved a bit side to side before taking a really long time to actually slow down. This was our chat:
P: Jaysus lad! What the fook was that!?
D: I don't know. Probably the worst landing ever!
P: The pilots must have been having the chatsies and didn't realise they had to land the bleedin' thing. It's like they were busy chatting and the co-pilot tapped them on the shoulder and said "em, lads - it's time to land!" And they were like "Oh fuck! Yeah! Thanks mate!"
D: Yeah, they were definitely distracted all right. What do you think they were talking about?P: Actually lad, I think they were so busy chatting that they forgot to put the wheels down. We're after landing without the bleeding wheels!
D: No dude. I think they put the feckin' stairs down instead of the wheels and when we first touched down the stairs hit the runway, they went back up and tried to fold the stairs back up again. Either way, it's a nightmare. Em, lad - do you think we are still going a bit fast?
P: Yeah, I do. But you know what lad? This airport is really small and so are the runways. I really hope we slow down soon because if not we are going to run out of bleedin' room!
D: Really?
P: Nah. I'm just messing. About the runways. But we should feckin' slow down soon... Lad, remind me to never fly Ryanmare again!
21:45 PM Friday 14 July
On the advice of brightontourism.com we went to a tapas bar called Don Carlos Tapas in The Lanes. It was really good but quite over priced for what it was - tapas. We shared about 4 dishes and had 6 beers. It probably cost twice what it would in Madrid but the service was OK and the entire staff were Spanish so it was pretty authentic. Paulo spotted a girl at a table with about 15 people at it behind us. This was our observation:
P: For fucks sake lad. Would you look at the size of your wan back there!
D: God almighty!
P: I think she is after eating every single bit of food on the bleedin' table all by herself.
D: Em, lad. Is it my imagination or is there someone missing from that table. I could of sworn there was some dude sitting next to her. I think she is after eating him as well! She feckin' ATE Joey!
P: (During fits of laughter) Waiter! Waiter! Could I have another bottle of wine please? I need to wash Joey down here! Fuckin' hell lad. That is qualiteeeee!..
23:00 PM Friday 14 July
After the meal we tried to get into a bar / club called Funky Buddha Lounge in The Arches. This was our encounter with the bouncer:
P: Hiya.
D: Hiya.
Bouncer: All right lads. Listen, you're going to have to come back here in about 30 minutes. There are too many blokes in here at the moment. There are too many and not enough women inside.
P: Ya what?
D: Sorry, did you say there are too many blokes inside?
Bouncer: Yes, I did. You will have to come back in half an hour.
D: Well, it IS Brighton isn't it? I mean, aren't there lots of blokes here in general?
P: Sorry. If there are too many blokes inside, are you not the one who let them all in? What's the problem?
Bouncer: Lads, you can't come in. Please move aside and let these ladies through.
D: Can we go in after them? There won't be so many blokes inside then.
Bouncer: No.
(Walking away)
D: Fuckin' hell lad.
P: (In his best Brighton accent) It's fuckin' Brighton mate. Innit?
D: What a load of rhubarb.
P: Yeah, it's fookin' ballicks all right...
01:30(ish) AM Friday 14 July
Since we couldn't get into The Funky Buddha Lounge we went for a stroll into town and came across a bar called The Full Moon. It looked cool because there wasn't too many people inside and there was a DJ playing on decks that were right on the bar. What made it even better (for me) was the fact that they had Leffe on tap. Happy days! After a couple of hours of some obscure but quality funk & disco, I decided to ask your man to play a tune. This is how it went:
Me: Howya? How's it going?
DJ: Good, good. How are you?
Me: Grand. Listen, the music is fantastic! Really, really good. Do you take any requests?
DJ: Well, not really. I will try to play something if I have it but I can't really promise anything.
Me: OK. Well, do you have any Michael Jackson?
(The dude gives me one of the most ferocious glares that I have ever seen)
Me: Hey listen, I wasn't trying to insult you or anything. But I just thought that a bit of MJ would be kinda cool right now.
DJ: Eh, no. I definitely don't have anything. And even if I did I would never play it. So, no. No Michael Jackson.
(He turns his back to me to look for the next record and totally ignores me).
Me: God almighty. There's no need to be so rude you feckin' Barclay's banker...
I returned to my seat at the bar a bit dejected and very unimpressed. Turns out he played one good tune afterwards - Express Yourself. Then, he went off on some off-the-wall pop / junk tangent that completely ruined the mood. I reckon he should have just played some Michael Jackson...
20:45 PM Saturday 15 July
We went to a really good Italian restaurant called Pablo's for a meal on Saturday night. The food was great and the prices were incredibly cheap. I decided to go for dessert and a digestive after the meal. I ordered an Amaretto (as you do in an Italian restaurant). The waiter brought the drink to the table and I immediately thought that it was too small. What I mean is that there wasn't enough of the drink in the glass. This is what followed:
(Stopping the next waitress I saw)
D: Em, sorry. I ordered an Amaretto but this looks to be a bit small. Is there any chance that you could have some more put into the glass?
Waitress: Yes, of course. No problem.
(She walks away)
P: (Shaking his head) Lad, what are you at?
D: What do you mean?
P: That drink was fine. What are you expecting? It's a liqueur.
D: I know that! But every time that I have ever ordered that drink you usually get more than that. I mean it's not a full drink but you would generally get almost a full glass.
P: I don't know lad.
D: Seriously. I swear to God.
P: OK. OK.
(He obviously didn't want to get into a disagreement)
D: Really lad. I am NOT losing my mind. It is ALWAYS served with more than that small amount.
P: OK.
(The waiter returns with another drink - with even LESS amaretto than the first one!)
D: Sorry. I am after sending back the first drink because there wasn't enough amaretto in it but this one has even less.
Waiter: (looking at me very strangely) Well sir, that is how the drink is served. It is one measure.
D: Well, I drink this from time to time and I have never been served one that is so small. Could I please have some more added to it?
Waiter: Of course, we can give you a double measure.
D: Well, hold on a minute. If you do that, are you going to charge me extra?
Waiter: Yes, of course. We are going to charge you double.
(I roll my eyes in well, disgust)
(The waiter turns to his colleague)
Waiter: Is this a full measure of amaretto?
Waitress: Let me see. Yes, that is a proper measure.
Waiter: Should there be more in this drink?
Waitress: No, that is a normal amaretto.
D: (seeing there was no way that I could win this argument) Never mind. It's OK. I will just keep this drink.
(The waiter leaves)
P: Lad, do you know what? The measurements are smaller here in the UK.
D: What do you mean?
P: Here a measure is 25cl. Back home it is 33cl.
D: Well, do you think that you could have explained that to me before I made such an ass of myself? I mean it is an easy enough thing to do without any further help.
P: (lowers his head and just starts laughing) Sorry lad...
Paulo and I flew to Bournemouth last Thursday with Ryanair (or more appropriately Ryanmare). The flight was OK but the landing was a (near) disaster. Now, I have been on flights before with dodgy landings but this had to be one of the worst that I have ever experienced. The plane actually touched down (actually, it just dropped down) then went back up in the air for a second and dropped down on the runway again. I would estimate that we were going about 50-75 miles an hour too fast to land as the plane swerved a bit side to side before taking a really long time to actually slow down. This was our chat:
P: Jaysus lad! What the fook was that!?
D: I don't know. Probably the worst landing ever!
P: The pilots must have been having the chatsies and didn't realise they had to land the bleedin' thing. It's like they were busy chatting and the co-pilot tapped them on the shoulder and said "em, lads - it's time to land!" And they were like "Oh fuck! Yeah! Thanks mate!"
D: Yeah, they were definitely distracted all right. What do you think they were talking about?P: Actually lad, I think they were so busy chatting that they forgot to put the wheels down. We're after landing without the bleeding wheels!
D: No dude. I think they put the feckin' stairs down instead of the wheels and when we first touched down the stairs hit the runway, they went back up and tried to fold the stairs back up again. Either way, it's a nightmare. Em, lad - do you think we are still going a bit fast?
P: Yeah, I do. But you know what lad? This airport is really small and so are the runways. I really hope we slow down soon because if not we are going to run out of bleedin' room!
D: Really?
P: Nah. I'm just messing. About the runways. But we should feckin' slow down soon... Lad, remind me to never fly Ryanmare again!
21:45 PM Friday 14 July
On the advice of brightontourism.com we went to a tapas bar called Don Carlos Tapas in The Lanes. It was really good but quite over priced for what it was - tapas. We shared about 4 dishes and had 6 beers. It probably cost twice what it would in Madrid but the service was OK and the entire staff were Spanish so it was pretty authentic. Paulo spotted a girl at a table with about 15 people at it behind us. This was our observation:
P: For fucks sake lad. Would you look at the size of your wan back there!
D: God almighty!
P: I think she is after eating every single bit of food on the bleedin' table all by herself.
D: Em, lad. Is it my imagination or is there someone missing from that table. I could of sworn there was some dude sitting next to her. I think she is after eating him as well! She feckin' ATE Joey!
P: (During fits of laughter) Waiter! Waiter! Could I have another bottle of wine please? I need to wash Joey down here! Fuckin' hell lad. That is qualiteeeee!..
23:00 PM Friday 14 July
After the meal we tried to get into a bar / club called Funky Buddha Lounge in The Arches. This was our encounter with the bouncer:
P: Hiya.
D: Hiya.
Bouncer: All right lads. Listen, you're going to have to come back here in about 30 minutes. There are too many blokes in here at the moment. There are too many and not enough women inside.
P: Ya what?
D: Sorry, did you say there are too many blokes inside?
Bouncer: Yes, I did. You will have to come back in half an hour.
D: Well, it IS Brighton isn't it? I mean, aren't there lots of blokes here in general?
P: Sorry. If there are too many blokes inside, are you not the one who let them all in? What's the problem?
Bouncer: Lads, you can't come in. Please move aside and let these ladies through.
D: Can we go in after them? There won't be so many blokes inside then.
Bouncer: No.
(Walking away)
D: Fuckin' hell lad.
P: (In his best Brighton accent) It's fuckin' Brighton mate. Innit?
D: What a load of rhubarb.
P: Yeah, it's fookin' ballicks all right...
01:30(ish) AM Friday 14 July
Since we couldn't get into The Funky Buddha Lounge we went for a stroll into town and came across a bar called The Full Moon. It looked cool because there wasn't too many people inside and there was a DJ playing on decks that were right on the bar. What made it even better (for me) was the fact that they had Leffe on tap. Happy days! After a couple of hours of some obscure but quality funk & disco, I decided to ask your man to play a tune. This is how it went:
Me: Howya? How's it going?
DJ: Good, good. How are you?
Me: Grand. Listen, the music is fantastic! Really, really good. Do you take any requests?
DJ: Well, not really. I will try to play something if I have it but I can't really promise anything.
Me: OK. Well, do you have any Michael Jackson?
(The dude gives me one of the most ferocious glares that I have ever seen)
Me: Hey listen, I wasn't trying to insult you or anything. But I just thought that a bit of MJ would be kinda cool right now.
DJ: Eh, no. I definitely don't have anything. And even if I did I would never play it. So, no. No Michael Jackson.
(He turns his back to me to look for the next record and totally ignores me).
Me: God almighty. There's no need to be so rude you feckin' Barclay's banker...
I returned to my seat at the bar a bit dejected and very unimpressed. Turns out he played one good tune afterwards - Express Yourself. Then, he went off on some off-the-wall pop / junk tangent that completely ruined the mood. I reckon he should have just played some Michael Jackson...
20:45 PM Saturday 15 July
We went to a really good Italian restaurant called Pablo's for a meal on Saturday night. The food was great and the prices were incredibly cheap. I decided to go for dessert and a digestive after the meal. I ordered an Amaretto (as you do in an Italian restaurant). The waiter brought the drink to the table and I immediately thought that it was too small. What I mean is that there wasn't enough of the drink in the glass. This is what followed:
(Stopping the next waitress I saw)
D: Em, sorry. I ordered an Amaretto but this looks to be a bit small. Is there any chance that you could have some more put into the glass?
Waitress: Yes, of course. No problem.
(She walks away)
P: (Shaking his head) Lad, what are you at?
D: What do you mean?
P: That drink was fine. What are you expecting? It's a liqueur.
D: I know that! But every time that I have ever ordered that drink you usually get more than that. I mean it's not a full drink but you would generally get almost a full glass.
P: I don't know lad.
D: Seriously. I swear to God.
P: OK. OK.
(He obviously didn't want to get into a disagreement)
D: Really lad. I am NOT losing my mind. It is ALWAYS served with more than that small amount.
P: OK.
(The waiter returns with another drink - with even LESS amaretto than the first one!)
D: Sorry. I am after sending back the first drink because there wasn't enough amaretto in it but this one has even less.
Waiter: (looking at me very strangely) Well sir, that is how the drink is served. It is one measure.
D: Well, I drink this from time to time and I have never been served one that is so small. Could I please have some more added to it?
Waiter: Of course, we can give you a double measure.
D: Well, hold on a minute. If you do that, are you going to charge me extra?
Waiter: Yes, of course. We are going to charge you double.
(I roll my eyes in well, disgust)
(The waiter turns to his colleague)
Waiter: Is this a full measure of amaretto?
Waitress: Let me see. Yes, that is a proper measure.
Waiter: Should there be more in this drink?
Waitress: No, that is a normal amaretto.
D: (seeing there was no way that I could win this argument) Never mind. It's OK. I will just keep this drink.
(The waiter leaves)
P: Lad, do you know what? The measurements are smaller here in the UK.
D: What do you mean?
P: Here a measure is 25cl. Back home it is 33cl.
D: Well, do you think that you could have explained that to me before I made such an ass of myself? I mean it is an easy enough thing to do without any further help.
P: (lowers his head and just starts laughing) Sorry lad...
posted by Kub at 13:36
3 Comments:
Ha ha ha, but there´s no way you or him are right, 33 cl. is a third of a litre (como un tercio de cerveza), it´s impossible they serve you 33 cl. of a liquor either side of the pond. What a load of ¿rhubarb?
I´m sure if he had played some Michael Jacskon but not "Billy Jean" you still would have made a second more precise request.
ENGLISH PLEASE
Lad, bloody brilliant. Was in stitches. To clear up the measure issue....it's 33ml not cl. Anyway, a great w/end eh? You're a fookin leg-end!
Paulo.
Post a Comment
<< Home