"I just hope I didn't hear you making fun of my name..."
Well. This is embarrassing.
When I asked you all if my response to a street sign meant I was a snob – it turns out that Ursula was right. Except for the “smart” part. It meant I’m an arse.
I blame Maxi for my humiliation. She encouraged me to find out the humiliating truth.
And Laurie can nod knowingly to herself. She sussed out the real picture from the beginning.
So… you remember that sign I was poking fun at for mispelling “daley bread”. You might recall my hoity toity pernickety I’m-not-buying-bread-there-they-can’t even-spell snobby attitude.
Yup, that sign.
Well. You’ll never guess the surname of the people who run the premises?
Mmm. Yes. They’re called Smith.
Phew. Thank goodness for that.
The End.
Actually. No.
Following Maxi’s UNHELPFUL comment (“If it were me though, I would be in there tryin’ out the bread, would have to know”) I pushed open the door and had a chat to the friendly people behind the sandwich counter inside.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
And the Daley’s (above) do make lovely sandwiches. Right again Ursula. Caramel squares. Mince slices. All to be highly recommended. (And not just because I feel so bad – and stupid – about my previous comments – they really are good.)
No humble pie on display, otherwise I would have taken a slice of that too.
I took a quick photo of THE DALEYS on my phone. They didn’t mind, but they were curious as to why I wanted the picture. I said it was for the internet, because of the name of their shop. But I felt too scundered to reveal the full reason. C’mon. The shop was busy. The prospect of this online shaming was bad enough without a live action preview. I will mention it though, sometime, now that I’ve apologised in front of you lot.
In other news. I’ve just made up a new kind of yoga. It involves a lot of this…
Blackwatertown 
Guess I’ll have to apologise too for saying Daley was a crap baker.
.
Well, I don’t know about their baking skills – but if I criticised them, you know they’d turn out to be award-winning bakers too.
Well I laughed!! The Daleys look just lovely and I feel totally wick for you…but fair play for sharing!
You can imagine what I muttered to myself under my breath I as realised once I went inside their shop.
I knew it all along… the signs were all there!
I’m gonna get one of those “I’m with stupid” T-shirts – and stroke out the middle word.
oh my gosh, Oh My Gosh, OH MY GOSH! I’m absolutely cracking up!
And you’re such a great sport at coming back to report the news. My hat’s off to you!
I’ll be pulling my hat down low over my face. Maybe I’ll take to wearing a balaclava for a while.
If it helps I’ll show some solidarity and admit that I, too, am an arse. I probably would have gone in, but I would be thinking smug thoughts throughout my visit. I might even have smirked a little.
And now that I’ve (hopefully) cheered you up I’m gonna risk of causing you further anxiety by noting that Mr Daley’s expression in that photo is… suggestive to say the least.
Ah now – I can’t be going there with you. Not after misjudging them so badly the last time. That’s not a sinister nor a suggestive expression at all – more of a would-you-prefer-rocket-or-lettuce-in-your-sandwich sort of face.
It might be for the best that I steer clear – I’d only annoy them more with my fussy sandwich preferences. Nine times out of ten I’ll just have a Marmite sandwich. That one time? A spam sandwich just to mix things up.
Dammit, now I’m hungry.
Me too.
I’ll investigate their offerings more thoroughly next time. Assuming I dare darken their door ever again.
I didn’t see the previous blog…but when I read the Daley bread, I though immediately about the place being run by Daley’s….a common Irish name I thought!
Good of you to say mea culpa…just a thought. Supposing the Daley’s are net savvy people, or have somebody who just stumbles on the picture, then your story will be OUT! I look forward to what you will do then…..
Yeeees – luckily they’ll be on the lookout for someone with a head like a horse.
Oh boy – sounds like something I would do! Had a feeling Daley was their name. And by the way, maybe you should cut back on the yoga.
No way – your sagacity would protect you.
Ha! Wish that was the case!!
I have now learned my lesson. I apologize to the Daleys.
Thanks for taking one for the team. =)
Selfless. That’s me all over.
Yeah…what Laurie said…you Arse!!!
Just kidding…I too am accused of resembling the Apostle Peter of the Bible more than any other Bible Character…
The only time I open my mouth is to change feet…
( THAT Wasn’t Me Speaking…it was the Donkey )
Baalim, or, …Shrek?
P.S. I’m adding your link to my Blog Roll…”Like anybody ever uses those things anyway”
Thanks for the “Like”
Gulty as charged.
And thanks. (Not for the arse bit. The other bit.)
One must always pause to wonder whether a “mistake” is deliberate or ironic or a joke. Like the Daily Mail journalist who claimed that Pinterest had been named in honour of Harold Pinter. Or maybe they’ll just claim it was a joke.
Sounds quite David Brentish – I can picture him alternately asserting the truth of it while also laughing it off as ironic, depending on his reading of the facial expressions of those around him.
No smart-arse comments from me. They’d just be half-baked.
Better half-baked than half-arsed.
Don’t stay on the guilt trip too long, Paul. We have all shared the foot-in-mouth disease at one time or another.
Btw, thanks for the mention, even if it was unhelpful.
Blessings – Maxi
Good advice. Given all the mentioning of arse – I’m hoping that when it comes to my shame – the end is in sight.
Geddit?
Where has Daley – Thompson variety – disappeared to? The decathlete, the top of the sporting and athletic pyramid.
Hopefully will reappear to light the Olympic flame (a la Muhammed Ali) while whistling God save The Queen.
Well that was a much needed tonic! lol…I have been feeling very bad, in fact seriously like a mega loser with my own foot in mouth sort of moment. This cheered me up no end!
You’ve just reminded me – this was all a deliberate mistake by me – i knew the truth all along – I was just pretending to get the wrong end of the stick so badly in solidarity with YOU. It was all a caring ruse to make you feel better about your own foot in mouth moment.
You see?
That’s the kind of caring guy I am.
It was all for you Wolfie.
I’m not an arse after all.
(Anyone buy that?)
How very thoughtful and caring of you! lol 😉 But somehow I don’t think so 🙂 Not to say that you ARE an arse of course 😉 but no…I don’t think anyone will buy that one! Sorry about that…but gold star for effort!
I have enjoyed this saga… 😉
Good – I’m delaying the face-to-face denoument.
Loins need girding first.
Here in Bangkok we have come across a shop called “It’s Happened To Be a Closet” (which sets Tim on edge every time he sees it) and a hairdresser (they are the worst offenders) called “Never Say Cuts” (I don’t understand the thought process behind that). You could move here, safe in the knowledge that your (our) smugness will never be half-arsed. I just bought Tim a T-shirt from a shop called “Le Petid Print” – almost a clever play on Antoine de Siant-Exupery, with whom my fellow Asians seem to be obssessed. But not quide.
When one is trying to be a smart arse, it helps if you can spell “Saint”.
Ah now that’s a photograph I’d love to see – Tim sporting his Le Petid Print T-shirt.
The poor man must tremble everytime his birthday approaches.
Don’t flagellate yourself. You are human. I like that.
What?!
Who told you I was flagellating myself?
C’mon, who was it?
I… I… I was just curious. It was only the once. I slipped while vacuuming. It wasn’t me anyway.
Don’t worry Paul, we’ve all done something like this. We all have an inner pillock which we try to hide.
Now I realise why you move countries so much – you’ve annoyed cafe and bar owners from Messina to Malmo.
Dear Paul, please do it more often [make an arse of yourself]: You grovel so beautifully. Whichever muscles in my body are exercised when laughing, you gave them a workout.
U