Sunday, Sunday (tra-la)*
Sunday, December 11th, 2005 05:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanAs advertised I went down to the West End today, having lounged away yesterday and left it too late. I spent an unconscionable amount of money, all of it on me! Amongst the junk I acquired is a (semi) hardback omnibus collection of Commando comic which I used to buy when I was at school. This where I learnt such useful German phrases as Achtung! Donner und Blitzen!, or Gott in Himmel!, and let us not forget the immortal, "For you, Tommy, ze var is oafer".
When I met my first German, many years later, I was sorely disappointed that these phrases were not part of his everyday vocabulary. He was equally disillusioned to find that English youth of the late '70s didn't regularly say "Wizard!" and such. I have since tried to rectify this, but to little effect.
The trip home was an exercise in petty annoyance. Whenever the Northern Line is suspended north of East Finchley for engineering works, London Underground routinely provide a bus replacement service. It is routinely inadequate, so I opted instead to wait for the regular 263 which drops me off directly outside the Athenaeum Club and is thus to be encouraged. Sadly a 263 sailed straight past the bus stop with East Finchley as its final destination. Not a lot of use to man or beast. It took twenty minutes of soft coaxing to lure another out of the woodwork, so it ended up taking around 2 hours to get home.
Back in Whetstone, I popped into Waitrose with 10 minutes to go before it closed; I only wanted a packet of cigarettes. I left empty handed having lost patience with the woman in line before me who queried the price of every item the cashier scanned. Had he strangled her, I should have appeared happily as a witness for the defence.
*Pace The Mamas and the Papas.
When I met my first German, many years later, I was sorely disappointed that these phrases were not part of his everyday vocabulary. He was equally disillusioned to find that English youth of the late '70s didn't regularly say "Wizard!" and such. I have since tried to rectify this, but to little effect.
The trip home was an exercise in petty annoyance. Whenever the Northern Line is suspended north of East Finchley for engineering works, London Underground routinely provide a bus replacement service. It is routinely inadequate, so I opted instead to wait for the regular 263 which drops me off directly outside the Athenaeum Club and is thus to be encouraged. Sadly a 263 sailed straight past the bus stop with East Finchley as its final destination. Not a lot of use to man or beast. It took twenty minutes of soft coaxing to lure another out of the woodwork, so it ended up taking around 2 hours to get home.
Back in Whetstone, I popped into Waitrose with 10 minutes to go before it closed; I only wanted a packet of cigarettes. I left empty handed having lost patience with the woman in line before me who queried the price of every item the cashier scanned. Had he strangled her, I should have appeared happily as a witness for the defence.
*Pace The Mamas and the Papas.