The British Can Be So Polite

Rob and I went to a fundraising event at the National Portrait Gallery yesterday evening.  It's a wonderful gallery and the Jubilee exhibition using paintings and other images to trace the Queen's 50 years on the throne is fab.  The fact that we were viewing it all with champagne in hand didn't hurt either.

While the drinks were fun, the canapes weren't enough.  We decided to go to dinner.  Rob had been to a nearby pub that he thought was good.  He said it was a bit pricey, but why not?  So, off we went.  It was almost nine and the Angel & Crown was packed in the main pub room.  We decided to go upstairs to the dining rooms rather than fight the crowd.

We climbed the narrow stairs and looked into the first dining room.  It was empty except for a devout Jew doing his prayers.  Well, I assume he was devout.  I mean, after all, he was standing in an empty pub dining room at 9 pm on a Wednesday evening praying.

Not wanting to disturb, we took the few extra steps to the next room.  There was a table of about ten, but the rest of the tables were empty.  We checked that dinner was still being served and were seated at table for two near an open window.

We ordered a bottle of wine, then dinner.  Rob had some oxtail and marrow thing - he always orders the weird stuff - and I had the fish and chips - the fattening stuff.  It was all very nice and we chatted and watched the action on the street below.  There was another pub across the street and since it was warm and surprisingly not raining, there were plenty of interesting characters on the street outside for people watching purposes.

Just after we finished eating, one of the guys from the table of ten came over.  He very politely explained that they were having an office farewell dinner and that one of the their crew had written a song for a colleague that was leaving for Norway.  He wanted to know if it was OK with us if the man sang his song.  He then he added, "Don't worry.  There aren't any rude words."

Hiding our amusement - or was it shock, I mean who would even ask in New Zealand - we consented.   Once it was clear that we had consented, the singer stood and explained to his table how he developed his song.  He had put words about his colleague and her work into a spreadsheet and then randomly put them together to a tune.  Then he said, "Sorry" to us and the staff, assured us again there were no rude words and he sang his song.

He could sing, but the song made no sense to us.  From a few of the random words, though, I did glean that they were apparently in the finance industry.  Those at the table understood it though, because they laughed here and there and I reckon they were too polite to have been laughing at the singer.  Once he had finished, he turned and apologised once again for the disturbance.

We finished our wine, paid our bill at the table and headed for the steps to make our way home.  This took us past the table of ten.  Their leader thanked us and said, "Sorry," yet again.  Three or four other sorries followed from others at the table, including one from the Jewish guy who was part of their group.

I wondered if he was apologising for his mate's singing 'disturbance' or for interrupting our search for a table with his prayers.  I guess it would be a bit much to think the British would apologise for praying, but then who'd have thought they'd apologise so much for singing a song with no rude words?