Trapped in eh um er Paradise?
Coconut fingers eh, how full of win are they? Buttered with a big cup of life affirming tea isn't it, mmmm, win, win, win, win. My weekend was so full of win it felt like all my birthdays had come at once. United beat the Berties from the other side of town, Spurs beat the new money tramps of Chelsea and then there was the Arsenal. Oh my Arsenal forgot that the game was played for ninety minutes and got their asses handed to them in the last ten. You would have assumed Arsenal would have remembered that the game was 90 minutes long what with them having invented football, ha!
Good times for Manuel. Good times and so full of lovely win.
It was only as I stuffed the third, or was it the forth, coconut finger down my pie hole that I realised that you can have too much of a good thing. And whilst coconut flavoured burps aren't the worst thing in the world they are still better best avoided. I lay atop my bed emitting Bounty Bar flavoured burps and wondering if anybody has ever died from an overdose of coconut fingers. Oh my that would be a terribly embarrassing way to go, almost as bad as those chaps that die in the middle of a danger wank. But not as embarrassing, obviously. I consoled myself with the thought that at least when my body was discovered there would only be crumbs and coconut and not a belt round my neck and an orange in my mouth.
You know who's weekend wasn't full of win?
Tourists that's who. Well specifically the trapped tourists. Trapped in Belfast, by an Icelandic volcano, oh crikey the horror. Honestly, wasps trapped in jam jars probably have better experiences, especially if they get trapped in said jam jar on a Sunday.
I had my first trapped in Belfast table on Thursday night. They were Canadian and jolly nice with it, if a little too Frenchy on it. The woman had to get home for her kid's birthday on Saturday. Clearly that wasn't going to be happening but she had accepted the situation. They only discovered that all flights were grounded after they checked out of their hotel and had gone to the airport. They rerurned forthwith to the same hotel and asked to check back in again only to be told that they couldn't as all the rooms were booked. There then followed a tense stand off at reception as the trapped tourists tried to explain to the receptionist that whilst their rooms may well be booked there would be nobody checking in. The receptionist was in a pickle but after bit they were given a room.
But that was day one and those poor unfortunates trapped against their will in Belfast were in decent spirits. It was all very spirit of the blitz kind of stuff with the tourists playing the part of the bombed Londoners, the ghastly ash and bile spewing volcano was the whole of the Third Reich and us waiters as the plucky home guard - crawling over rubble and dodging bombs to serve over priced chicken and mash. Not that I fancy myself much.
Day two and the mood had changed from passive acceptance of the situation to something much more proactive altogether as trapped tourists sought their escape by any means necessary. Oh how I would not have fancied being on the other end of the phone at an airport this weekend. Those kids must have taken some abuse.
But obviously escape was futile, for most. "We are out!", announced the very happy Dutchmen who had managed to secure a berth on the slow boat to Liverpool (from the frying pan to the scouse fire if you ask me but whatever). Such was their delight in having managed to plan a quarter of their escape to freedom from Belfast that they forgot to tip. I'm sure they will feel bad about it later.
Day three saw the mood change from one of positivity to anger, resentment and down right rudeness. The guests weren't much fun either, heh. Only joking. But the trapped guests were more than a little annoyed by now. Don't get me wrong Belfast is a swell town for a day or two but it can soon lose it's appeal if you are here for any longer than you really want to be as evidenced by a wonderfully depressing conversation with five American chaps all desperate to get home.
"So guys are you in Belfast against your will or..."
"Fucking trapped in this god forsaken town by a volcano in Greenland, go figure", answered the large man who looked like he hadn't slept in a while or showered either come to think of it.
"Hey it's in Iceland", corrected his friend. I had thought about it but yer man didn't really look like he was in the mood for a geography lesson.
"Iceland, Greenland who gives a fuck Mike...I mean what the fuck?!" I also considered asking him to tone down the potty talk but again I correctly assumed he wasn't the type to take lessons on how to behave in public well.
"Aren't we fucking stuck here? YES! Can we get home? NO! Am I pissed about this? Yes! Am I gonna fucking swear? Fuck hell yeah I am!"
His mates shut up, I shut up we all just looked at each other rather depressed and if I am being honest a little scared. Then I remembered I had nothing to be depressed about as I had coconut fingers and my own bed to go home to.
As they left, two tense and stressful hours later, I said my goodbyes and,
"Hope you don't have to spend another day in..."
"Don't you fucking say paradise man, do not fucking say paradise....I've been to paradise and this just ain't it!"
"Belfast? Paradise? Ha...no, no I wasn't gonna say that"
So I just didn't finish it. He was an ash hole, heh, but I can understand why.
Oh what jolly japes. I do hope all the angry tourists get home soon and we get some fresh excited to be here tourists. The other lot are running out of tipping cash and have taken to sitting at their tables for hours upon hours just for something to do.
And that's not a win situation for Manuel, not at all.
Now I’m going to have to have a coconut finger for my tea break in work tomorrow, just the one mind, with a thick slab of real butter. I’ll try to sleep now without dreaming of such delight, I fear waking up with a pillow in my mouth.
I get them from St George’s on a Saturday…..so so so good….sad but i really look forward to them now….used to get one for The Cousin but I eat it now too….double win
but..you had coconut fingers..thats something…(feels badly about the whole thing like its my fault but i’m canadian its my culture to do so, so um…sorry eh)
it’s not your fault….it;s Iceland’s fault….stupide Icelandic mountain with stuff crapping out of it….boooo to volcanoes…
wonder how long before the airlines start taking chances… as crabby as the stranded tourists are, it would be worse to have them raining down in flames from the sky. probably.
I have a friend stuck in Belfast at the moment due to that stupid volcano with the unpronounceable name. I say she is stuck in Belfast, but it would be more accurate to say that Belfast is stuck with her.
She’s Aussie, she doesn’t tip. Enjoy!
“Spurs beat the new money tramps of Chelsea and Arsenal”
What new money has Arsenal had? Fucked if i know am really upset being compared to chelsea! that’s fuckin low man.
Love it when Man u fans bitch about teams using money to buy the league, pot – kettle!!
I don’t know what I love more: Coconut fingers or a freshly buttered Belfast bap…
Forget the tourists, I struggled to get past the coconut fingers.
How can anybody eat anything with dessicated coconut in it. It’s like sawdust except with less flavour and a lower moisture content. It just mops up all the available saliva in your mouth and after five minutes of chewing it’s still there going nowhere. Much like the tourists.
1999 was the year of coconut shrimp in the U.S.
A ghastly combination, yet it was everywhere you went.
Ack.
This would be the same Man U with a huuuuuggeee debt then? Old Trafford, the only pitch where they actually encourage you to throw coins…
Manchester United were a debt free club and had been for years until those parasites bought our club with borrowed money and then transfered the debt to the clubs balance sheet. Our success was built ou youth devlopment and clever marketing which allowed us to buy good players. Some oligarch just didnt turn up one day with sacks full of cash and turn a mediocre club with no history into a club with masive buying power. **and breathe**
Heh, I have all sorts of friends complaining about being ‘trapped’ in awful places like Paris, Madrid, and Sydney. Oh, sure, when you go there for two weeks and post pictures of you swimming in the crystal clear oceans with the sun beating down on you or eating mussels by the river it’s all unbearably wonderful, but you get an extra couple of weeks there with a perfectly legitimate excuse for work and all of a sudden you’re in some sort of hellhole where all you can eat is donkey curry and you have to sleep under a bin? Yeah right, you’re still on holiday, just by mistake. It’s human nature to whinge, it seems. Imagine what they’ll be like when the rapture comes and they can’t get any 3G reception? They won’t even be able to complain about it on twitter…
Can you tell I’m due a holiday myself?
“Some oligarch just didnt turn up one day with sacks full of cash and turn a mediocre club with no history into a club with masive buying power.”
Which oligarch bought Arsenal??
Arsenal no history oh come on!
Sorry, my comments were directed at BPC. No Arsenal certainly arent like that, i meant citeh and chelski.
Oh Manuels gonna beat me good for this.
I just a wee edit….I wasn’t implying that Arsenal were new money tramps….just chelsea….wish we had new money, hell I wish we had money
I hope the Canadian table tipped well.
Um, I am very surprised that you have never come accross untipping Dutchmen before. I live in Holland, and no one ever tips any one ever here. They say the waiters all earn a living wage, so there is no need. They assume it is so in all other countries too. I have never actually asked a waiter if this is true, mind you. Plus, as a foreigner (in this land) I am still expected to tip, because it is what we do.
Ok im sorry too so long a ur not comparing us to Chelski
Canadians trapped in Ireland?, all together now
There`s no Canada like French Canada,
Its the best Canada in the land,
And the other Canada is a bullshit Canada,
If you lived there for a day you’d understand.
Would you like a moustache?
Been stuck in Philly myself since Thursday. Hoping to get out sometime later this week – even if only to Belfast or Dublin. At least I can swim home to Wales from there.
I’d kill for a coconut finger right about now.
-Blod.
From St George’s market huh? you’ll slag off the Queen but will eat her Coconut fingers………… imagine being stuck in Belfast then getting served by you, some tossers just can’t win, speaking of which it will take more than a lack of a Bog trotter passport and volcanic ash to stop me from coming over (not much more)
sorry for not responding etc….busy day mainly involving new iPhone 3gs and sitting….I loves a good sit….
Don’t look too forward to it, I have an Aussie friend desperately trying to get INTO Belfast for a wedding. She doesn’t tip either.
Um, I am very surprised that you have never come accross untipping Dutchmen before. I live in Holland, and no one ever tips any one ever here. They say the waiters all earn a living wage, so there is no need. They assume it is so in all other countries too. I have never actually asked a waiter if this is true, mind you. Plus, as a foreigner (in this land) I am still expected to tip, because it is what we do.