I had a prostate biopsy yesterday. As my name is Tichborne, I am always the last person to be taken down to surgery. This can be irritating, as everyone turns up at the same time, but those with late in the alphabet names are always last to go down. What it meant was I heard the consultant discussing the procedure with all of the other chaps, before I went down. It was quite interesting. There was one guy who sounded a bit posh, there was one who sounded very working class and a couple of people who had not very English accents. We were all around 60 or older. It was fascinating hearing how the same process was explained to each different person. It is fair to say the posh bloke got a very technical and precise explanation. The salt of the earth chap, less so. The other two guys got an even shorter speel. To be honest, I think we all just wanted it done and to get home, but it was instructive.
It is quite interesting. Google is designed by Americans. If you ask for a list of Posh People in England, it gives youy the Times rich list. Yanks just don't get the fact that poshness has little to do with being super rich.
When he finally got to me, I realised he had me down as a pleb, so I made sure I asked lots of detailed questions. When the penny dropped, he then gave me a rather comprehensive run through. I'm not complaining, when they are shipping bits from your prostate, as you are unconscious, legs akimbo in stirrups, it matters not a jot.
When we talk about poshness, generally we tend to think of Hyacinth Bucket types, as most of us don't get invites to dine at their mates stately homes. I used to have a really posh boss. He looked like King George V and spoke like him. Lovely bloke. Used to ask me up to drink the beer in his drinks cabinet when it was past it's sell by date and chat about life. He was a real diamond. After I'd worked for him for a year, he asked me if I was related to "The Hampshire Tichborne's". He was mightily impressed when I regaled him with all of the stories of the families history. He then asked if I thought the Tichborne Claimant was an imposter. I told him I didn't know, but my Dad who'd researched the whole thing had concluded that he was the real thing and the family diddled him out of the inheritence. It is telling that the family refuse to give DNA samples to settle the matter. It would make no difference to us, one way or the other. He concluded that I was actually quite posh!Last night, I got to thinking about poshness and the plebocricy. What are the tell tale gives.
As a little game, give yourself ten points for every posh point, five if you don't know and none if choose the pleb choice.
So here are my tell tale giveaways.
1. Posh people wear shirts and ties for prostate biopsy's, plebs don't
2. Posh people have Mistress's, Plebs have 'a bit on the side'.
3. Posh people have dinner parties, Plebs have their mates around.
4. Posh people go to the beach, Plebs visit the seaside.
5. Posh people drink fine wines, Plebs have a bottle of plonk.
6. Posh people try very hard to pronounce French cuisine correctly in expensive restaurants, Plebs don't bother.
7. Posh people have luggage, Plebs have bags.
8. Posh people pronounce Cafe's as Caff- Aye. plebs make do with Caff.
9. Posh people name the shops they are visiting when they go shopping in town ('nipping down to Fortnums to pick up some Lapsang Souchong). Plebs simply go shopping.
10. Posh people dine out, Plebs get some grub.
So how did you score?
100-80 - Yep you are proper posh. You'd mix freely amongst the landed gentry and if you need your prostate mutilated, you'll get a good old description.
75-50 - You try but you're a bit of a Hyacynth Bucket rather than a proper posh bod.
50-25 - You're a pleb at heart, but a bit of the Hoi Polloi has rubbed off on you somewhere
25-0 - You're a proper pleb. You're idea of fun is to pack your bags, go to the seaside with your bit on the side, share a bottle or two of plonk and have a nice big fry up down the caff in the morning.
Interestingly, the Guardian did a 'List of Poshness rules' back in 2014. Like many things in the Guardian in recent years, it's pretty clueless. The Daily Mail has an even more ridiculous list. Apparently wearing wellies, being good at small talk and asking people where they went to school are signs of poshness. It also seems that owning books makes you posh. Lord help us.
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