Classic clangers from the last week
A high journal
An American banker sat with his friends in the garden of The Phene in Chelsea on a Saturday afternoon was overheard stating: “You know one of the main New York newspapers trades stock for cocaine. Could you imagine the headlines? The calls came from one of our customers and they said: ‘We want a report from you to tell us which traders did this’. Totally true, you know. One bitch working for us called the FBI; what a stupid cow. She could have just kept shtum and they’d have let her get high”.
Amused by Edina
At Amuse Bouche in Parson’s Green an American named Lucinda was overheard introducing a group of friends. Of one she commented: “Ya, darlings, Bertie used to work with me in PR darlings. He’s from Boston. Isn’t that fab?” Who did she think she was? Edina Monsoon?
Hedging a Rolls
In The Coburg Bar at The Connaught in Mayfair a young man who’d just started working at a nearby hedge fund was overheard lamenting how difficult he was finding his demanding bosses and the long hours he was having to work. His father responded with a good piece of advice: “When things don’t happen right away, just remember that it takes 6 months to build a Rolls-Royce and 13 hours to build a Toyota”. The young man smiled and his father laughed.
Music in taxis
On Facebook one exotically named Theodore L. Nichols Jr. shared a story about a request from a Muslim to a London cab driver to turn off their radio:
A devout Arab Muslim entered a black cab… He curtly asked the cabbie to turn off the radio because as decreed by his religious teachings he must not listen to music because in the time of the prophet there was no music, especially Western music which is the music of the infidel.
The cab driver politely switched off the radio, stopped the cab and opened the passenger’s door.
The Arab Muslim asked him: “What are you doing?”
The cabbie answered: “In the time of the prophet there were no taxis, so piss off and wait for a camel”.
Nichols Jr. concluded: “You’ve got to love the Brits”.
Training a pub
In a Wiltshire pub one of our horse racing loving readers from Chelsea overheard a customer chatting with the publican. He said: “Did you hear that Richard Hannon is rumoured to be buying The Shears at Collingbourne Ducis?” Another customer piped in and shouted down the bar: “What? Again?”
Irish cob
On a train to London from Reading a middle aged woman was overheard chatting with her mother. She said: “I bloody washed my teeth before we came out but then I ate corn on the cob”. Her mother’s eyes glazed over and she responded: “What’s wrong with you? Are you bloody Irish?”
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