In celebration of our Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, it seems each town in
the country has held a party of some sort. This is madness for it is a Bank
Holiday weekend which, are always exclusively rained off, so you generally avoid
planning anything out doors. Bank Holidays are typical examples of the indoor
BBQ, where you have risked buying coals and started lighting the BBQ outside
but have also set the cooker on standby and are sat in preparation, with your
plate full of salad, ready to dive into the house as soon as the first drop of precipitation
falls from the sky and bung your remaining sausages under the grill. However, one
brave member of your party remains outside in defiance, under an umbrella,
poking the coals which, refuse to light, begging to the clouds not to ruin
another attempt to cook and eat meat outside.
Today, having learnt from previous BBQ-ing attempts, we decided
to attend the “sort of” party in the town. My town decided to hold its party in
the park with a precision of one of the many Bag Pipe bands we have for a small
seaside market town, over four hundred miles south of the Scottish border. They
were followed by ten members of the council, a group of sea cadets, five people
of a majorette group (not even doing a majorette routine, literally just walking)
and a man in a white van. Somehow that seemed to constitute a “parade” which,
ended in the park where, apparently, there was plenty of entertainment. This
entertainment was a stand with a DJ and four fast food vans. But not your usual
fast food vans where you would expect burgers and chips. No, but two vans
selling Baked Potatoes! Yes, Baked Potatoes. Two of them! Why? How do you serve
Baked Potatoes as a fast food? Even worse than that, they were just selling the
Baked Potatoes for two pound each, the fillings were additional. Two pound for
someone just to hand you a plain Baked Potato!
- Guildenstern
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