Saturday, September 13, 2014
Zante Diary - 5
Zante diary - 5 Brits abroad
Not having been on one of these beach type holidays for a while, there's been an interesting social experiment (otherwise known as people watching) for me to perform here. To whit, has the typical Englishman abroad stereotype been eradicated in this high tech, wifi enabled, super fast internet age?...
The short answer to this is a resounding no. The long answer - fucking hell no!! And so, your honour, we turn to example no1...
He sits down next to me at breakfast and we can start ticking all the boxes off - bulldog and Union Jack tattoo on left bicep, Liverpool club crest - apparently tattooed by a five year old with blunt crayons - on the right. Proudly displayed on his right calf is, of course, the three lions England badge in all it's pudgy legged glory. If this was slot machine in Vegas it would be vomiting coins like a pissed 18 year old on a stag do. But there's more - he's northern and complaining the bacon isn't the same as at home. Three strikes and you're out pal, and that has been considerably more!
Example no2 and we're back on the beach. With the school holidays back home over and done with, the time is ripe for couples, singles and and young families to benefit from the lower prices and take over the strand. This means a lot of Yummy Mummies on the beach. Of course when I call them Yummy it's because that's what they must say every time they see the dessert trolley - fat fucking cows! Seriously there's muffin tops hanging knee deep over every pair of bikini bottoms, and arse cracks you could park a 4 be 4 in everywhere you turn to look. And don't get me started on why someone who's had three children, and a diet mainly consisting of lard, needs to get their lils out in public. Hello, do you know why your husband always turns the light out??? Oh, and the bad, bad, BAD tattoos these people are sporting - seriously don't get me started...
So, we have two examples - one for each gender - to show in evidence as the Stereotypical Brit Abroad(or STBA) is alive, well and clogging up the beaches of Greece. And you may now be thinking I'm going to say "but there is hope..." and write a tale redeeming our battered STBA...
Not a fucking chance of it - and this is due to a man I shall refer to as Complete Nobhead Arsehole Man (Copyright 2014 Mrs R) a man who's an embarrassment for the rest of the UK.
Let's start with the fake poo...yes, a 50 something man thinks it the height of hilarity to put a fake poo at the by the end of his sunbed and try to get the beach staff to pick it up. I didn't know when to start laughing. He also had a fake dead rat on him, and a tarantula sized spider, and I'll leave it to you to picture the types of japery he got up to with this arsenal of comedy magic. His little coterie seemed to find it funny, pissing themselves every time some unfortunate soul became a victim of his pranks. Our sunbed vendor said to us as we were paying for our beds "I know this man, he is big joker". The subtext read "I know this man and he is a complete cunt"
He also has a tattoo. It is the WORST I've ever seen. It's across the top of his arse, which he likes to readily display, and it says - no word of a lie - Mind the Gap. I can only assume it mean the one between his ears.
Have I forgotten to mention the megaphone? How remiss of me! Why have none of us thought to bring one to the beach with us and yell shit a people through it? It's the most hilarious thing of all time. Call a hawker over, examine all the goods and send him on his way without buying anything is probably fair enough. Yelling at him through the megaphone afterwards, in an Indian accent that would not have been out of place in Mind your Language "velly, velly good price" is beyond the pale. As it using it to tell a Chinese girl, not 3 feet away from him "no I don't want a fucking massage ..." while his sycophantic twats lap it up is just unbelievable.
It doesn't end there. We have the great misfortune to sit near him and his fan club in a restaurant one night. He is for some reason wearing a fake, white moustache. And an Elvis wig, and has the megaphone with him. The worshipers too have a variety of wigs, masks of the royal family and various celebs and are, rather noisily, driving the staff and other patrons to the edge of distraction. At least on the beach you could move away from this buffoon and find somewhere he isn't, but in a packed restaurant you're pretty much fucked! And this is the impression the world gets of us. For every generous tip, thank you for good service, and heartily returned "Yammas" from our lovely locals, it's his, and his groups idiocy that will be remembered.
But we're fighting back...
Not having been on one of these beach type holidays for a while, there's been an interesting social experiment (otherwise known as people watching) for me to perform here. To whit, has the typical Englishman abroad stereotype been eradicated in this high tech, wifi enabled, super fast internet age?...
The short answer to this is a resounding no. The long answer - fucking hell no!! And so, your honour, we turn to example no1...
He sits down next to me at breakfast and we can start ticking all the boxes off - bulldog and Union Jack tattoo on left bicep, Liverpool club crest - apparently tattooed by a five year old with blunt crayons - on the right. Proudly displayed on his right calf is, of course, the three lions England badge in all it's pudgy legged glory. If this was slot machine in Vegas it would be vomiting coins like a pissed 18 year old on a stag do. But there's more - he's northern and complaining the bacon isn't the same as at home. Three strikes and you're out pal, and that has been considerably more!
Example no2 and we're back on the beach. With the school holidays back home over and done with, the time is ripe for couples, singles and and young families to benefit from the lower prices and take over the strand. This means a lot of Yummy Mummies on the beach. Of course when I call them Yummy it's because that's what they must say every time they see the dessert trolley - fat fucking cows! Seriously there's muffin tops hanging knee deep over every pair of bikini bottoms, and arse cracks you could park a 4 be 4 in everywhere you turn to look. And don't get me started on why someone who's had three children, and a diet mainly consisting of lard, needs to get their lils out in public. Hello, do you know why your husband always turns the light out??? Oh, and the bad, bad, BAD tattoos these people are sporting - seriously don't get me started...
So, we have two examples - one for each gender - to show in evidence as the Stereotypical Brit Abroad(or STBA) is alive, well and clogging up the beaches of Greece. And you may now be thinking I'm going to say "but there is hope..." and write a tale redeeming our battered STBA...
Not a fucking chance of it - and this is due to a man I shall refer to as Complete Nobhead Arsehole Man (Copyright 2014 Mrs R) a man who's an embarrassment for the rest of the UK.
Let's start with the fake poo...yes, a 50 something man thinks it the height of hilarity to put a fake poo at the by the end of his sunbed and try to get the beach staff to pick it up. I didn't know when to start laughing. He also had a fake dead rat on him, and a tarantula sized spider, and I'll leave it to you to picture the types of japery he got up to with this arsenal of comedy magic. His little coterie seemed to find it funny, pissing themselves every time some unfortunate soul became a victim of his pranks. Our sunbed vendor said to us as we were paying for our beds "I know this man, he is big joker". The subtext read "I know this man and he is a complete cunt"
He also has a tattoo. It is the WORST I've ever seen. It's across the top of his arse, which he likes to readily display, and it says - no word of a lie - Mind the Gap. I can only assume it mean the one between his ears.
Have I forgotten to mention the megaphone? How remiss of me! Why have none of us thought to bring one to the beach with us and yell shit a people through it? It's the most hilarious thing of all time. Call a hawker over, examine all the goods and send him on his way without buying anything is probably fair enough. Yelling at him through the megaphone afterwards, in an Indian accent that would not have been out of place in Mind your Language "velly, velly good price" is beyond the pale. As it using it to tell a Chinese girl, not 3 feet away from him "no I don't want a fucking massage ..." while his sycophantic twats lap it up is just unbelievable.
It doesn't end there. We have the great misfortune to sit near him and his fan club in a restaurant one night. He is for some reason wearing a fake, white moustache. And an Elvis wig, and has the megaphone with him. The worshipers too have a variety of wigs, masks of the royal family and various celebs and are, rather noisily, driving the staff and other patrons to the edge of distraction. At least on the beach you could move away from this buffoon and find somewhere he isn't, but in a packed restaurant you're pretty much fucked! And this is the impression the world gets of us. For every generous tip, thank you for good service, and heartily returned "Yammas" from our lovely locals, it's his, and his groups idiocy that will be remembered.
But we're fighting back...
# posted by Bucko! @ 9:39 AM 
