Checkout lady: Having a party?
Me: Erm… No.
Buying alcohol at Sainsbury's…
Reply
Checkout lady: Having a party?
Me: Erm… No.
Tag Archives: conversations
Watching ‘The Bourne Identity’ with my dad...
Dad: Did she just say she was Mr Kane's pregnant sister?
Me: Personal assistant.
Apostrophe catastrophe
Conversation with Jen as we approached Elland last week:
R: Did you see that sign just then? ‘Butty's R Us’. That was Butty, apostrophe, S! Outrageous!
J: …Whereas, you have no problems at all with the rest of the sign?
Come again?
Fishmonger [turning to me from an animated conversation]: Do you happen to know when Easter is next year?
Me: Yes, it'll be the first Sunday on or after the first full moon after the vernal equinox.
Fishmonger: Thanks!
...I've since looked it up, just to make sure, and it's not quite that simple. I blame the Council of Nicaea, and the Synod of Whitby.
On reflection, perhaps I should just have said 27th March.
Ball/game
Conversation at Jen's work last week:
“That [female colleague] is on the game.”
“I think you mean ‘on the ball’.”
The woman from UNCLE
When I was at Boots the Chemist this morning, I couldn't help noticing that the woman behind the counter was wearing a black T-shirt with the word UNCLE emblazoned across her chest.
She didn't look like any sort of uncle I'd ever seen. I wondered if her T-shirt's inscription was intended as some strange take on the American phrase to say uncle. Somehow I doubted it. I toyed with the idea of making a lame joke about her being the Woman from Uncle, but, in the end, having lived in Yorkshire for many years, I decided that the direct approach was best:
“Do you know you've got the word UNCLE written on your T-shirt?” I asked.
The woman looked momentarily confused, stepped back, then tugged at the bottom of her T-shirt, stretching it out to reveal the word JINGLE, with a little star over the I.
This woman is allowed to dispense drugs.
Do you see what I did there?
Irish Mick and I went for a slightly up-market pub dinner above Windermere on Tuesday. Afterwards, I went back to the bar:
Barmaid: Did you two enjoy your venison burgers?
Me: Yes, thanks, they were very nice—but they were dead deer.
Barmaid: …?
Me: Sorry, that was just a joke.
Barmaid: …?
Me: … A pun.
Barmaid: …?
Me: … Well, a double-pun, really… Venison: dead deer.
Barmaid: …?
Me: Two pints of bitter, please.