My sister said the other day 'Sherida, I swear you're always blogging about things that no one even cares about'.With this I replied (calmly at that).
Go back into the womb.
So yeah, I have a lot to say about things that don't really matter… You can give me almost any perceived useless subject to talk about and I can write an essay about it. I'm not joking. I'm just interested in stuff, and most of the time, stuff that no one really thinks twice about.
Like Chicken and Chip Shops. One of the many things that have my eyes in wonder are the Chicken and Chip shops around London. My friends in Uni who've all grown up in London say it's a normal thing. No, seriously, having about 7 or 8 chicken shops on one high street is normal. Of course it isn't my intent to bash the trade, people have to make money in the same way that people have to eat. It's a win win situation really. My friend
, who has lived in London all her life said that her and her friends used to get chicken and chips after school once in a while. In this, my eyes widened in disbelief - 'But how can you eat all that grease thoooooouuugh', I'd say. It seemed strange to her that I'd never been to one and was apprehensive about going to one. Honestly apprehensive wasn't even the word. For so long I'd heard of mice and cockroaches in these places, which I thought was common knowledge. So could you imagine my surprise when I found out about how often people visited these places? Everyday I'd see school kids with yellow and orange paper boxes filled with grease laden chicken and bronzed chips. No seriously, how much chicken can one kid have? Mouths slicked and smeared with oil, barely audible with all the food in their gobs.
. And you know Chicken and Chip shops have their own
as well right? The food in there never smells as enticing as Mcdonalds or even KFC (both of which I loathe, despite the orchestrated perfumed chips). Bottom line is, I'd always disliked these bite sized shops placed around London, for the obesity and messiness they represented to me.
So how then, in view of all this, did I find myself in a Morley's Chicken shop in Deptford on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Honestly, I asked myself the same question as I stood waiting and watching the man dowse the chips in boiling oil. I repeatedly thought of walking out, thinking of how my thighs already touch and hug at my hips. 'Damn, I'm gonna have to do some sort of physical activity now' I thought.
I walked home with the food in the brightly packaged box in my hand, holding it as though I ought not to. It wasn't until I got home and put the food on a plate - that I realised that the moment deserved documentation. I was three seconds away from sending a mass text to everyone I knew saying
"GUYS, I JUST BOUGHT FOOD FROM A CHICKEN AND CHIPS SHOP'. I halted, noting my ridiculousness and put my phone down.
I picked up my DLSR instead. And shot about 12 images of my very first South London Chicken Shop buy.
Completely proud, yet completely revolted too.
And there you have it folks. My essay on another useless and irrelevant subject. Chicken and Chips.
Also, the best selfies are taken in Chicken and Chip shops.