Staffroom conversations are a lethargic business, peppered with weary mutterings. They usually kick off with Teacher fave "In my day" which can encompass a time period between 1936-1999. We've moved on from the catastrophic weather conditions of middle England, staggered by the thought of upturned trampolines, onto the topical cost of living. To illustrate just how bleak things are for blighty, someone piped up that their friend has recently nested with their bloke and it's now dawned on them just how much food shopping rapes the wage packet. I've been fortunate enough to hear this epic twice. In Tescos, bloke reaches for value multipack fishfingers. Girlfriend complains only the very best, the champion of fishfingers, 'Birdseye' will do. Several wage packets later, the woman grimly acknowledges brand name fishfingers are a luxury for the lucky few. Oh, isn't the cost of living high?
When we are back in the caves and I'm teaching 'Holes' through wall drawings, I'll tell this story and think back to when I knew the golden age was slipping through our (fish) fingers.
1 comment:
With recession biting I've had to cut down my fishfinger intake severely.
I'm going to start re-marketing ash in orange breadcrumbs to exploit Captain Birdseye's ruthless profiteering as much as possible.
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