Snippets II – Part 1

Dear Mum,

Here are a few more snippets of vaguely amusing things that I’ve witnessed. I’ve saved three of them for Part 2 on Monday.

– – – – –

When I first arrived in Larnaca, there was a girl living here who was always wearing the same clothes every time I saw her: black trousers and a maroon top. I wondered if she’d bought a job lot. It was very unusual  –  girls hate to be seen wearing the same gear night after night.

So eventually I asked a friend of hers why she was always wearing the same clothes.

The answer?

“Those are her drinking trousers.”

– – – – –

“It’s very quiet tonight. Where is everyone?”

“Just not many tourists around this year apparently.”

“You’d think this place would be packed with Brits, what with the war and everything.”

“War?”, I said. “What war?”

“Sorry. Not war. I meant the floods.”

– – – – –

“Scuse me, mate. Is there a McDonald’s ‘ere?”


Don’t encourage them…

– – – – –

“Why are there never any croissants left by 11 o’clock. Why don’t you make more?”

“You would not believe how many loads of lots of people ask me that, innit. But there’s no demand for them.”

– – – – –

“What’s the difference between Cyprus Delight and Turkish Delight?”

“There’s no such thing as Turkish Delight. They stole it from us. Like my country. F***ing Turkish bastards!”

Oops! Sorry I asked!

– – – – –

I often take my dog Cleopatra out with me in the evenings. Our journey home involves walking along a particular street and turning left into an alleyway. I noticed some time ago that she knows the way and turns left automatically. She doesn’t need any prompting from me.

We were approaching the alleyway one night when I saw three people standing by the entrance to it, chatting. One of them saw Cleopatra and said,

“Aw, isn’t she cute!”

So, timing it to perfection, I said to Cleo,

“Turn left!”

And right on cue, she turned left into the alleyway.

They were impressed!

– – – – –

“How come everyone speaks English here?

“Because Cyprus is a former British colony. That’s why they still drive on the left.”

“I thought Cyprus was Greek. Did we sell it to Greece or something?”

“No. Greece has never owned Cyprus. Turkey has, but not Greece.”

“I don’t think that can be right. Why else would they all speak Greek here?”

“Because 90% of Cypriots are Greek descendants.”


“I must admit I don’t know much about Cyprus. I’m only here cos the wife wanted to come. Where exactly is it again?”

– – – – –

I was watching two Cypriot girls seated at a table having a conversation. To be more specific, I was watching what one of them was doing. She was chatting away quite merrily whilst writing a text on her mobile which she held in her right hand down by her side.

It was quite a long text by the look of it, and she was writing very fast, her fingers a blur! Not once did she look at what she was writing. Her eyes and her mind were focused on the conversation she was having with her friend. Then she finished and scrolled down through what she’d written and sent the text without needing to make any corrections.

I was impressed. It takes me half an hour to write ‘Hello’!

Even then, it’s more likely to say ‘Jello’…

– – – – –

“They reckon those fires in Greece are all arson.”


“That reminds me, is the Arsenal match on the telly tonight?”

– – – – –

Last October, there were a couple of warships parked in Larnaca Bay. An Irish guy in his late thirties that I’d got to know arrived at the bar where Steve and I were sitting outside. I liked him a lot, but he was always getting barred from various drinking establishments, just for being loud and over the top.

He went bananas when he saw the two warships. He was livid. I’ve absolutely no idea why. But he said he’d soon get rid of them and waded out into the sea and stuck his head under the waves.

He came back five minutes later, soaking wet, and said he’d sent them a message underwater.

Ten minutes later, the two warships up anchored and left!

I’ve always hoped it was just a coincidence…

– – – – –

Karaoke night at an outdoor bar. End of season (last year) and no-one interested in taking part. It’s dying a death. A few eight and nine year-olds get up on stage once or twice, but they’re the only participants. The same Irish guy decides to get up and have a go. Great! An adult at last.

Half way through, a couple of teenagers on bicycles pass the bar and start jeering at him. He stops singing and unleashes a string of swear words at them, as only an Irishman can. All of this with the microphone still in front of his mouth and everything coming out over the PA system for everyone to hear.

The proprietor, quite rightly, grabs the microphone from him and has a go at him.

“You can’t f***ing swear like that in front of all these f***ing kids. F*** off! You’re barred!”

Unfortunately, the microphone was still switched on, so all those f***ing kids heard every f***ing word!

It was priceless.

He was the only adult who got up to sing all night, and half way through the song he was thrown out…

– – – – –

“You was wrong, mate. There is a McDonald’s ‘ere. Right on the seafront. I just bin there. Really nice one too. An’ there’s a KFC.”

Oh well. You can’t win them all.

At least I tried to save his life…


©MPB 14/September/2007


3 Responses to Snippets II – Part 1

  1. If you are regularly a “part” of such happennings, you must be really lucky!

  2. Priapus says:

    Ah! If only! If only these things did happen regularly. It would give me so much more to write about.

    I go out three or four nights a week, and if I’m not with other people, then I tend to observe what’s going on around me, and keep an ear open for things that amuse me. Sadly, they don’t crop up that often. There are about a dozen snippets of conversation in this Letter going back as far as last October. That’s an average of one a month! I’d hoped to have gathered a few more since the first Snippets Letter, but I don’t seem to be in the right place at the right time often enough.

    I’ve still got a few left for Snippets III. Let’s hope the next few weeks will be a bit more fruitful.

  3. TyncCyclity says:

    Think about it… I like to show you my well sufferer I have a nice joke for you) What do you call a bee born in May? A Maybe.

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