I now work in central London, with sandwich shops galore, ranging from the traditional chains to the Italians via the unspeakable bagel shop through to the work canteen /and/ work sandwich bar.

But before that I worked in a miserable suburban street, where the options included:

1) a café which sold sandwiches that tasted of cigarette ash, run by a large middle-aged Eastern European couple who resembled Serbian war criminals

2) a café run by an insane Italian lady with dyed orange hair, who kept ranting about how much she hated the immigrants. Terrible food (except for the hangover bacon rolls), but nice coffee.

3) one of the six kebab and fried chicken shops within a 100 metre radius of the office

4) nearly-edible sandwiches delivered by a succession of stoned Antipodeans on bikes

5) the pub near the office, which managed to combined being perpetually near-empty with vaguely menacing chav-den vibes. And didn’t serve food.

6) the pub down the road, which managed to combined being perpetually near-empty with vaguely menacing chav-den vibes. And served unspeakably awful food.

We usually ended up going for 6, or 5 on a bad day. No wonder we seldom got any work done…

McDonalds and Burger King being the main competitors.

There are a few non-interesting sandwich bars catering for mono-culture too.

There are two cheerful exception to this, however.

“Swindon’s No 1 Tramcar” offers crispy bacon in Delice de France baguettes. The lady dispensing these usually ask’s ” do you want butter on that ?”

I decline gracefully and go for the unadorned item.

Secondly, “The Blues Bar” is a straightforward Cafe. Clean, ordinary and decent, it offers Swindon’s hard-pressed punters a fair shout at retreating into a steamy and 50’s-style sojourn. One of the waitresses has an accent to adore. She is 50 ish and has a Spanish Look.

What more could a man want whilst trying to prevent Gordon Brown and Dave destroying Britain with silliness?

JVIP
http://www.forgirlswhocantdofootball.blogspot.com