The saveloy of embarrassment

We were on holiday the other week down in Dorset. Many visits occurred to various chippies for fish and chips. One day however we popped down to Exeter to visit some friends and decided to stay for some tea. Eschewing the familiar fish and chips, I decided to go for a(n oi oi!) saveloy and chips instead and so the lady wife was dispatched, uncertain in her porcine purchase, towards the Chinese fish and chip shop while I waited in the car with the kids.

Sausage and chips is obviously a fairly common selection, along with pie & chips and chicken and chips but for some reason the thought of a saveloy and chips filled the wife with dread.

And well it might.

15 minutes later an harrassed wife returned with all orders fufilled sucessfully. Except mine, for I had a jumbo sausage and chips. Apparently some long discussion had gone on over what a saveloy might be- initially they thought it was some sort of fish, the staff didn’t know, and even the customers in the queue behind wifey were baffled. Understandably she had been a little reticent about shouting “it’s a footlong pink sausage” for fear of being arrested under the public indecency legislation.

Wife, I am truly sorry.