North vs South Pt. 1

I used to love disparaging the North in favour of the South until I actually went down there. Let me just say, there is no better advert for the North than the South. The people are so much friendlier in the North. And it's so beautiful up here. Another one f0r me is how most pubs are really good real ale pubs. In the South they are so much rarer, and not as good when you do find them.

The set-up

Okay, after getting the two previous posts' arguments off my chest, here's the skinny. This well be my outlet for all my gripes and complaints that no one should feasibly be forced to listen to. It's also the closest I'll come to writing a diary, my problem is, I don't want to write just for myself because if no one else can read it, what's the point? (not to dismiss diarists, it's just that they don't work for me). So I intend to post at least semi-regularly, and it will be about whatever is on my mind at the moment. Peace out. :)

Pub showdown

Popping into my village pub for a swift pint with some mates on Monday night, I found the place surprisingly busy (well, four other people, two of whom promptly left when we arrived). The landlady, Sue Wass (Big Sue, but for your own sake, not to her face) is effortlessly rude. "Whaddya want?" and our ordered beers are slammed down on the abr for our consumption. Calls for other items (crisps for example) draw a drawn out sigh from Big Sue. Retreiving the crisps calls for a step to her right you see (how can customers be so difficult?). Efforts at exaggerated politeness in an attempt to provoke the most base level of courtesy on her part are in vain.

After some light hearted banter with the other patrons of the establishment (from Richmond, 6 miles away, so some people must like it) and a stroking of one of Sue's Basset Hounds in a doomed attempt to curry her favour, I attempted to break the ice with some friendly conversation with Sue. I ask whether Ian Botham (Britain's greatest sportsman of all time, now the Shredded Wheat man) who lives next door to her comes in often, as I remember a newspaper interview of his in which he claimed that he did, which I did not believe. If I tell you that it ended with Sue saying, "He's a local, you're a local. You come here once a year, he's come here once!" then I think you get an idea of how the conversation went.

Needless to say, I'll be back next year.

Asda showdown

Having only been to an Asda once before my move down to Oadby, I (retrospectively) erroneously presumed that they were all like the formentioned branch. This is like thus:

• thin aisles difficult for two people to pass through at the same time

• obnoxious customers who antagonise the already fraught situation

• retarded (actually) or otherwise rude and disinterested staff

• guilty until proven innocent on the ID front, not much nicer when proof is given

That is why me sojourn to the Darlington branch of Asda was such a pleasant surprise. The expected thin aisles were actually about double the size of it's sister, people were polite and well-mannered and did not cause you trouble when you tried to get past. A query was taken to a member of staff who could not have been more obliging or friendly. The checkout boy engaged in friendly conversation, and one did not resent showing him ID because he was so nice about it (nice meaning not being aggressive). Another customer made a friendly joke at a snippet of overheard conversation between me and my friends. Overall, it was actually a nice experience at the Darlo branch as opposed to the torrid chore of visiting the Oadby branch.

I actually think a good part of the difference is due to the public attitudes towards shopping in Asda. In The Midlands, Asda was seen as downmarket and not a desirable place to be. In The North, Asda is a homegrown business, and thrifty Northerners on the whole simply love bargains, regardless of class.