Clangers overheard and snippets spotted by readers of ‘The Steeple Times’
Ferry & Yah
A PR maven at the Chiltern Firehouse loudly spoke into her mobile. She speedily told the person at the other end of the line: “Bryan Ferry is amazing. Yah. Super yah… I saw his son in 5 Hertford Street. That was a triple yah… Becks and I had such a laugh coming up in the car. That was a yah, a cheers and yah… I didn’t try and talk to Bryan Ferry’s son. That wouldn’t be a yah”. She put the phone down, quaffed her cocktail and dialled her next yah-ing victim.
Milton to Walton
At the bar of The Enterprise in Walton Street, Chelsea, a chubby woman from the Midlands summoned a waitress. She exclaimed: “I want a table now. Outside. This is war. I want one now. Who do those bloody people sat there think they are? We’ve come all the way from Milton Keynes”. Another customer mumbled: “We’d rather you go back there”.
“What is it with these storms?” asked a middle-aged estate agent at the bar of the since closed restaurant La Brasserie in Brompton Road, SW3. His equally bright friend answered: “Storm Doris: I thought it was a terrorist incident”.
At lunch at Sexy Fish in Berkeley Square, W1, a pair of businessmen debated their worst ever mistakes. The winner? “I paid £1,500 to meet Tony Blair’s son for lunch once. What a waste. I wish I’d bought a flight to Blackpool instead”.
A Need for Pecorino
“Pecorino, I need some Pecorino”, remarked a woman with an expensive looking pram in a deli in Marylebone. An elderly gent tapped her on the shoulder and asked: “Who do you and your kid think you are? Wallace and Bloody Gromit?”
The Richness of Wholefoods
On Facebook, Matthew Cranwell posted: “When I see a rich bitch in Wholefoods, I pretend I need help and ask: ‘Excuse me, do you work here?’ Just to keep things real”.
Submit comments you hear to firstname.lastname@example.org. We publish amusing and ridiculous chatter we receive and sometimes we change names and locations to protect the identities of the vain and the vacuous.