A work colleague of mine is helping his friend study for the
British citizenship test. I was having a look at the questions and was baffled
by how few of them I knew. For example – ‘What is the name of the admiral who
died in a sea battle in 1805 and has a monument in Trafalgar Square?’ Erm – is that
relevant?
And it got me thinking about what it means to be British, or
rather, what I would define at Britishness. So here are the things I think you really need to know to prove you grew up
in Britain:
Firstly, you need to have really strong preferences on how
you like your chips. You need to know if you like salt and vinegar, if you’re a
curry sauce person or a gravy person, and you need to have a vociferous
argument with your significant other about it every single time you visit a
chip shop – ‘So much vinegar it’s disintegrating the paper! That’s disgusting!’
You must also consistently reference a place you got chips when you were
younger where they were much better than wherever you are now.
Salute at magpies. There's a song you can learn as well, but the saluting is important.
Have a very specific, limited education on certain things. For
example, you must know how many wives Henry VIII had and in what order they
were divorced, beheaded and died. You should know one Shakespeare play in great
detail, to the point where you can recite whole paragraphs, but no others. You
should be able to identify an oxbow lake, but not, say, be able to point out
India on a map.
Don’t smoke – nobody smokes. Smoking is frowned upon, and if
someone blows smoke in your face in the street you’re allowed to tut. But you
can SOCIALLY smoke, obviously, which means when you’ve had more than three
drinks and are outside a pub or in the garden at somebody’s house party. When
smoking, you must talk about how you don’t normally smoke, and mutter ‘filthy
habit’ under your breath.
Don’t speak on public transport, even if you are so packed
in that you’re in someone’s armpit or so close to their face that you could
kiss them. Sometimes, somebody on the train or bus will be doing something a
bit mental – singing the Lord’s prayer loudly, taking a banana repeatedly in
and out of a bin, barking like a dog. Hold your peace. But be assured, if the
madman approaches you – or anyone else, in particular an old lady – three large
men in their forties, all with tattooed arms and an air that suggests they’ve
been in prison, will step forward menacingly and say ‘HEY.’ And that will be
the end of it.
Talk endlessly about the weather. If it’s cold, complain. If
it’s hot, complain. Once on a perfectly normal day my Mum looked up at the sky,
tutted, and said ‘It’s such a nothingy
day today.’ You can always rely on the weather for conversation.
If you see someone littering, don’t say anything. You don’t
need to. A harried looking mum will approach the litterer – usually a
terrifying youth called Dwayne in baggy jeans who is very possibly carrying a
gun – and will say something like ‘Look! There’s a bin right there! Right there,
look!’ Everybody in the vicinity will hold their breath, but Dwayne will pretty
much always just pick up the offending crisp packet and shuffle to the bin,
muttering ‘Bitch,’ barely audibly.
Eat 99s in the summer. Complain that they no longer cost
99p, even though they have never cost 99p in your living memory. Other things
you must complain about the price of include Freddos and Space Raider crisps (even though you would never eat these things, even if they were given to you for free), petrol (‘£50 to fill a Vauxhall Corsa!’) and admission to theme parks. You must
never go to a theme park without 2 for 1 vouchers your Mum has collected for
you from doing Tesco ‘big shops.’
You need to know all the words to Common People, the opening verse of Don’t Stop Believing, and the dance to the Macarena. You need to
know how to do said dance in a half-hearted, embarrassed fashion, and slink off
halfway through when it gets a bit tiring and boring and like suddenly you’re
all at an aerobics class in the middle of a club. You need to know that at
every single wedding, school disco or reunion you ever go to, the song ‘(I’ve
Had) The Time of My Life’ will be played somewhere near the end and an unlikely
couple will snog to it. Enjoy fancy dress, but pretend you don't, and always do it a bit reluctantly.
You must have an old school friend with a weird nickname –
something like The Cheese or Bluey. The name is based on a story that most
people can’t remember and wasn’t really funny anyway, like, he ate a bit of
blue paint by mistake once or something. Bluey, whose name is almost always
Richard, went to university and likes to be called Rich now. You see him at his
wedding – he’s marrying a girl called Lucy with glasses and she disapproves of
you. He isn’t as fun as he used to be. He clearly doesn’t like you calling him
Bluey anymore, but every year, reliable as clockwork, you must write it on his
Facebook wall – ‘Happy birthday, Blue! Don’t eat all the paint!’
If someone says ‘Nice to see you,’ reply ‘To see you nice!’
Get your news from the Daily Mail sidebar of shame, but never, ever admit to
it. Wear tights with everything. Drink
cider in pub gardens the second the sun comes out and mulled wine by pub fires
from late October onwards.
Cultivate a strong and recalcitrant opinion on the
following: the best Bond. The best Beatle. How to take your tea. How to best
scramble eggs. Which Spice Girl you would’ve been or liked to marry. Whether or
not you can have Yorkshire puddings with all roast dinners, or just beef. If
you’re Tesco or Sainsbury’s (don’t be a Waitrose or an Asda). Burger King or
McDonald’s (this can become quite specific – you can say you prefer ‘Burger
King burgers but McDonald’s chips,’ as if you might actually drive between the
two to select your gourmet meal of choice).
Eastenders or Coronation Street. Cats or dogs (for some reason no, you
can’t like both).
You need to call your Mum a lot and eat roast dinners on
Sundays and slag off the Prime Minister but quite like the Queen. You should be
kind but stern, stiff upper lipped but with a soft heart. And you must always,
always be happiest in the pub with a pint. Who wouldn’t want to be British,
when you put it like that?
This was so fun to read! And so, so true! Personally I'm a dog person, no vinegar on chips, and definitely Corrie ;)
ReplyDeletemoremindfulyou.blogspot.com
Oh my god - THIS IS AMAZING. I am laughing reading all of these and seeing how I do every single thing haha. For me, chips need to be kinda crispy with a little bit of salt, no vinegar. I'm now craving chips! xx
ReplyDeleteJessie | allthingsbeautiful-x
Oh no, I'm an Asda! But I do work with them which is my excuse. Love this post and now I really want fish and chips and a pint! x
ReplyDeleteSophie Cliff
This was absolutely brilliant!!
ReplyDeleteLove it. Please check out how I balayaged my own hair!
ReplyDeleteKisses xo | From Aliona With Love
Instagram @alionawithlove
Twitter @alionawithlove