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Just back from an excellent weekend chez Pal Pito, of whom viewers from the glory days of the Sandwich (in the early 20th century) may have a hazy recollection. Luckily, he’s alive and well in the realoplane, and promising to be back here plenty soon.
He did, however, make me cringe with embarrasment when he (justifiably) pulled me up for saying “Can I GET an apple juice?” at Pizza Hut this afternoon. Leaving aside the “can” / “may” question, the whole “get” thing is yet another horrible Americanism which has insidiously crept into our beautiful language. The serving wench would have been well within her rights to have rejoindered: “I don’t know - can you? You tell me. I can only see the top half of your body; you may be paraplegic for all I know” (although obviously she didn’t).
This entry was posted on Sunday, October 28th, 2007 at 6:23 pm and is filed under General, or uncategorized due to sloppy editing, Grammar. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
You’re moaning about crass ‘Americanisms’ whilst in a Pizza Hut?
When you get round to having kids, Matthew (or indeed adopting the role of “weird uncle” as I have to Pal’s delightful young ‘uns), you’ll come to realise that free primary-coloured crayons and “Dora the Explorer” activity books are considerably more significant to the restaurant-visiting experience than the ethnic authenticity of the food you’re consuming.
I don’t quite get you. Pizza Hut is surely authentic American?
I will not have a word said against Pizza Hut. The Pan Chicken Supreme is my very raison d’etre. And any restaurant that actually expects you to take home a doggy bag is my kind of restaurant.
Apparently the chicken that they use is made of crayon. And vice versa.
Matthew - I dunno, I suspect the presence of a salad bar / a pizza on the menu less than 14 inches in diameter bars “The Hut” from being labelled authentically American. But I get your point - I thought you were contrasting my Italian heritage with my presence at Pizza Hut (obviously you were doing nothing of the sort).
LZ - nice to see you again. I’ll ask this in the relative privacy of the Sandwich (rather than chez vous on Myspace): who’s the new BF? Is it one of your contributors?
No, he’s an officer from the Army base where I used to work. We’ve been good friends for
a while, kept in contact after I left, and finally got together last week. In fact, I’m going back to Wattisham this weekend; it is going to be very odd being served by my former colleagues.
A friend inferred from the blog that I had got back with my ex. I didn’t think it read that way, and since you saw it as a new man, I will assume it does not.
No, it’s fairly clear from your post that it’s someone you’ve known for a while without romance being on the agenda.
I was thinking that maybe you ought to give your poor male 1st year colleagues a chance, but then I reflected… a nice buff army officer vs. a scrawny dope-smoking layabout desperately trying to cultivate dreadlocks and annoyingly making every sentence sound like it’s a question, yeah? …. tough choice…
… yeah but stick at it Shit, I know from personal experience that even the most hopeless layabout males can eventually get lucky…..
although I’m not sure whether being “of the yellowish-beige color of leather” will necessarily appeal….
Long live the Hut!!
Thank God for Google (and the resultant dictionary definition of “buff”), Pal, otherwise I’d have thought you were making a comment as to my recent unsuccessful sunbed sessions.
Welcome back, and, as you say, long live Jabba!
Seeing as I rarely even look at any man less than five years older than me, the poor things didn’t stand a chance. And how could they compare to a man who actually bought me a feather quill and ink for my birthday?
a Mont Blanc maybe…….?!
I notice you also didn’t say “Please”, Shit - very rude - what is the world coming to?!
Speaking of which, what the fuck’s wrong with your Yahoo! e-mail? I keep getting failed deliveries …