The Canteen Is Another Country, They Do Things Differently There

The canteen facility at work has never been the best, and has often managed to achieve the worst on numerous occasions.

Staffing has often been the issue, particularly when they draft in someone at short notice, on the sole qualification that they are actually available. Such personnel, by default from the third world, are usually disadvantaged by their lack of English, and particularly when they have no familiarity with British Food (although I concede that even the most practiced native would struggle to recognise the fayre presented on some days).

I once addressed this issue in a team meeting where I related my plight, concerning the time when my request for peas resulted in a generous dollop of baked beans. "No!" I protested; "PEAS!" pointing to the appropriate vegetable. In response, my adversary pointed to the beans and exclaimed; "Yes Peas!"

"That's nothing," responded a colleague, "I asked for gravy, and he put custard on me roast!"

For a while, it looked like those days had passed, and even the fruit salad improved over the previous green apple / red apple in orange juice offering, but, alas, not for long.

This lunchtime, I have just waited in a enormous queue, only to discover that the delay was arising from the cashier's total unfamiliarity with sterling currency. Yes, a cashier with no idea of what the coinage represents, as befuddled as a tourist on their first day in Ulan Bator.

When he short-changed me, it wasn't out of perfidy, he was simply unaware of which bits of the round metal pieces that were due to me.

I say bring back Slutty Rose; what she lacked in virtue and underwear, she more than made up with numeracy!

I'll be making my own sandwiches tomorrow.