I Was Brought Up And NOT Dragged Up!

Jerk Chicken 300x247 I Was Brought Up And NOT Dragged Up!

There is a place that I go to for lunch sometimes. They do barbequed jerk chicken with salad for £3.50. It is affordable and ideal because there are no heavy carbs to make you feel bloated and distorted. It is also quick because the chicken is always on the grill and ready, fresh for my mouth.

Not too long ago I had a bad experience there where I had ordered my food and when I had finished paying at the till there was no room in front of me to go to the counter where the food is picked up because there were a lot people in front of me queuing for their food. As I was standing in the way of the people that wanted to order I moved away to the far end of the food counter. I had my ticket so it wasn’t like I was trying to push in as the ticket tells the time of the order.

I stood and waited my turn and then when it was time I tried to draw the attention of one of the girls packing up the food orders. I was consistently ignored and after two people that were behind me got served first the bitch face man on the till called out to me,

“You’re in the wrong place. You cyaaaan just go to the front!”

I didn’t want to make a fuss so I didn’t bother explaining why I had gone there and instead I just moved to the place where I had been directed by him. Finally one of the wretched bitches that work there got around to serving me. She was wearing the tight blue plastic gloves that many in the food industry wear, because they supposedly make everything more hygienic, despite the fact that they use the same gloves to touch the food, money, probably pick their noses, bums and whatever else. Pierced through the end of each finger of the blue glove were her extremely long brightly painted red and gold detailed talons. Now what is the point of even putting on the gloves if your nails are going to pierce through them?

So this red and gold detailed taloned wretch snatched my ticket and without so much as a polite acknowledgement, prepared the food and shoved it at me. When I opened up the bag and got to eating it I was so pissed that she had put the coleslaw in one those small polystyrene tubs with a lid DOUBLE it’s size. Now if they didn’t have the correct lids the wretch should have said something, and at least covered it with cling film and NOT a lid that serves NO purpose because it doesn’t fit what it is supposed to be covering.

I swore not to go back to this place because I don’t like the attitude that hits me when I walk through the door, and I stuck to my word… Until today. What possessed me? I was just craving some barbeque chicken. So listen to this ridiculousness. I go in there with a colleague of mine (WWGS for those that know,) I pay, get my ticket and then stand at the counter to get the food. The woman that was serving is one that I did not recognise. She asks me if I want salad with the chicken and I tell her,

“Yes please.”

This lunatic bitch starts sniggering and guffawing, looks up and tells me,

“I knew it had to be you with your yes please.”

I don’t know what to say because I do not recognise her. As far as my eyes are concerned we have never met.

She continued,

“Why everyting I say you ha’fe say yes please?”


“Well you asked if I want salad and I want it, so what do you what me to say; no?”

“Everyting… yes please, yes please, yes please.”

She then starts relaying the story back to a fellow wench that she was working with and they start chuckling together. The guy next to me is laughing along with them and then leans in and whispers to me,

“Don’t worry, they aren’t used to people saying please and thank you. They find it funny.”

By now I am just willing my food to come because these bitches are working my nerve. They give it to me and I stand back and wait for my colleague to pick up her order. She was unaware of the whole exchange and there came the point in the conversation where she said thank you when she was handed the food by the wench that served me. When she said thank you the guffaws erupted again. The wench even had the gall to open her mouth,

“Oh laaaaawd, All dis please and tank you is too much.”

My colleague was taken aback and asked her,

“It is polite to say your p’s and q’s. Many people are offended if you don’t. Would you rather I said fuck off instead of thank you?”

Can you believe the wench then tried to explain to my colleague how annoying it was and specifically used me as an example? I just couldn’t believe the nerve. Those yardie bitches are unbelievable and I SWEAR I AM NOT GOING BACK IN THERE… barbequed chicken or no barbequed chicken!

When I got back to work I relayed the story to another colleague and her response made me laugh so much that I had to include it in the blog title. She said to me,




  1. This seems so preposterous that I have nothing to say. That we have gotten to a point where politeness is ridiculed makes me very sad.

  2. I can not believe those women! Why on earth would they think people being polite is wierd. Geesh!

  3. Méli says:

    LOL…I, too get the “the look” sometimes…but whatever. I pay my money,

    Thanks for the comment! Unfortunately we never got together but , God willing, life is a very long time. We'll see each other again. Then, maybe…who knows?

  4. Makes me sad too…

  5. They think it is uneccesary and annoying… Maybe to them politeness is more understated… a slight nod or grunt… LOL Who knows?

  6. What is your blog site?

  7. Emm says:

    Wow. I am not surprised you don't want to go there any more! I've found that since I became a jaded, bitter misery, I get such better service in shops!! When I was nice and polite I also got treated like rubbish.

  8. hahaha! Isnt that comical… I found it was that way in the Jamaican hairdressers… They would abuse anyone that was too nice, whereas if you don't smile and grunt at them they seem to want to please you more. Weird.

  9. Fly Girl says:

    This is too crazy. I have witnessed scenes like this and I would never give them my money after that spectacle. I like that brought up/dragged up phrase though!

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