Today we celebrated my Mother-in-Law’s 70th birthday at a pub that keeps upper middle class people within their bubble that poverty doesn’t exist. Well they pretend anyway. Everything in the pub was upmarket from the wall lights to the towels and hand lotion in the ladies loos. The design of the place confirmed your place in the social hierarchy or made you feel more alienated depending on your upbringing.
I was the first to step inside from the April showers and was greeted by a young man with an accent fresh out of public school. To my right was a gathering of young posh men all geared up for a wedding (Having 13 twice in the wedding date and rain is not a good omen). As I confirmed our table booking (no really we have got the right place), the restaurant manager repeated our surname with a pronounciation that harked back to the time when our descendants were knights with French royal blood ( a very very long time ago).
The restaurant was very child friendly with lit candles and an open woodburner at knee height, no high chairs and no children’s menu. That wasn’t a problem though as my son just shared my very expensive fish and chips. I also shared with my 2 year old niece who had a selection of meals laid out for her courtesy of her neurotic mother (my sister-in-law). “Would you mind giving some of your fish to her?” She asked behind a pile of sausages and mash and a plate of roast beef (grrr).
After the main course we then reviewed the desserts all priced over £7. It was a small and tasty crumble but I think £30 just for one fish and chips followed by crumble – the most basic dishes on the British menu – was a tad overpriced.
The total bill came to nearly £300 for 8 people – only 3 of us had a glass of wine – crazy money and not an expenditure I would have been at all comfortable with. What’s wrong with Wetherspoons?
As we left, with wallets a great deal lighter, we passed a rogues gallery of toffs with slightly more well-known toffs in mid guffaw at the races – it felt like they were laughing at us all the way to the exit.
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