more on english laundry soaps

I used the last of my flatmates' laundry detergent this afternoon. As I didn't feel like writing my essay about Russia, I figured that I would briefly procrastinate by stepping outside to replace the empty soap bottle. I dropped my house keys and four pounds into my coat pockets and set off for the 98 pence store on the corner. I only brought four pounds because I didn't think laundry detergent could possibly cost more than four pounds, and if it did, well, I assumed that I wouldn't want to buy it. But being a champagne socialist complicates matters. I was insistent on replacing it with the same brand of "non-biological liquigel" that my flatmates had previously purchased. The biological detergents have enzymes in them, and are not as gentle on clothes. Athough I'm not sure why I care; all of my clothes come from charity stores. Anyway, the 98p store failed to stock Persil non-bio liquigel. I wandered the aisles for awhile in search of it, getting distracted by the Valentine's Day section with its temperature sensitive coffee mugs with photos of men and women whose vestments evaporate when coming into contact with hot liquid. I absentmindedly doubled back to make sure that I hadn't missed the detergent, humming "Its gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes..." and marvelling at the stacks of Ribena black currant juice with which people here appear to be obsessed. I popped into the A&E Discount store nextdoor and was similarly disappointed. I considered buying some green jeweled hair clips but thought better of it when I remembered that I hadn't brought my wallet and I had to save my precious four pounds for the elusive laundry soap. I grew increasingly exasperated when I realized that the turkish store across the street didn't carry my non-bio soap either. Annoyed, I resigned myself to walking a bit farther and braving the long lines at the Morrisons, "Britain's Best Supermarket," according to the billboard-sized poster above its car park. I pushed my way past the crowds of Sunday shoppers only to discover to my horror that the Persil non-bio liquigel sitting on the shelf in all of its gleaming glory cost four pounds and NINETEEN PENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I angrily fingered the four pounds in my pocket pushed my way out of the store in a huff.

I decided to console myself for my misadventure and continue procrastinating by stopping at the Ocean Breeze Fish 'n Chips on the way home.
"Hi," I greeted the turkish man behind the counter, "A small chips, please."
"Open or closed?"
"I'm sorry?"I don't know why this question caught me off guard, but it did. I was confused, because I didn't think the chips came in a sandwhich or on bread of any kind, and I was worn out from my laundry soap search.
"Open or closed? You don't understand?"His eyes sparkled with mocking and he chuckled mightily.
"No."
"You speak English?" He stared at me as he scooped up the fries, erm, chips.
"YES [Very well thank you!]"
"Where you from?"
I refrained from pointing out that his question lacked a verb and that technically he really shouldn't end his English sentences with prepositions. Like Winston Churchill once exclaimed, normally "That is the sort of thing up with which I will not put!" Instead, I just smiled my widest most insincere American smile and sweetly answered, "The United States." Now give me my damn chips!!! I lunged for my remaining two pounds thirty pence and walked home wihout my non-biological liquigel.

Overheard

I used to live a few blocks away from a fantastic Japanese noodle restaurant called Fujiyama, and the last time I was there I overheard a bemusing conversation between two British ladies with matching gray bobs. "...yes, she acts on stage in New York, yes, New York!" "Well, my online name is Laura London...because my cat's name was Laura, and I live in London." "Did you see, the BBC had a wonderful series on a few nights ago, all about Islam, yes, fascinating, and all the more so because I have this friend who is a professor, you see, who knows all about those things, you know..." I was tempted to lean over and exasperatedly interject, "YES. I know," but I luckily remembered that I wasn't supposed to be evesdropping. I took a sip of wine, looked down at my noodles, and ate a chili.

The reason I mention this now is that the BBC is now showing a new documentary that everyone should watch. Iran and the West is a 3-part series that includes interviews with former Presidents Jimmy Carter, Rafsanjani, and Khatami. Should be interesting. Fascinating, even...all the more so because you have this friend who, you see, knows all about these things, you know...