A few days ago I was standing in the tube, in London during my Christmas visit home to England. Two women sitting on my left starting having a conversation about hot drinks. Naturally, I couldn’t move as is normally the case in the unforgiving London underground. So, naturally, I was listening in.
Here is how the conversation went:
Girl opens a packet filled with what looks likes sachets of hot chocolate/Horlicks. Strong, Cockney accents.
“You don’t like hot drinks do you?”
“Oh God no,” Girl turns nose up at packet.
“Not even hot chocolate?
“No, I mean, you got drinks, why should they be hot?”
“Sometimes its comforting-“
“I see what you mean, yeah, but drinks are drinks, why ruin them by making them hot?”
“What about coffee?”
“Hate coffee, never liked it, never drink it, can’t understand why people do. I mean – okay – at a push I’ll have a cup of tea, but that is, you know, at a push.”
“What about soup?”
“Not soup, no. Well – if I have to it needs bits in, you know, to chew on.”
“But without bits you wouldn’t like-“
“No, without bits, it’s just, disgusting.” Girl makes strange noise with throat.
“You know what, drinks are fine cold – that’s the end of that. I mean, why make everything hot? They aren’t meant to be hot. ‘Am like, leave them as they are.”
“Yeah I guess.
“What about, hot Ribena?’
“Oh God yeah, I’ll have that any day.”