Posts tagged cornish pasties

That’s no lady -and the tramp

So what is it about daughter and tramps? Or rather, weird people who hang about railway stations?

A month or so back, she returns home all a-flutter to explain that she has been followed on the train from Stevenage (to Peterborough). Alarming, actually…and equally alarming that I am not sure she reported the incident to the correct authorities at the time.

Fast forward to yesterday, and she ends up at Peterborough station again, waiting to be picked up. Legitimately, I hasten to add. It is just that I am stuck behind a lorry on the way to the A1 and therefore late.

She drinks three coffees. Three? No wonder the girl is occasionally hyped up.

A man takes a seat beside her. He is drunk, apparently. He staggers over to the station shop and purchases a cornish pasty. He eats half of it before deciding that isn’t good enough. So he staggers back and helps himself to a further four pasties. According to daughter, he doesn’t pay.

Not that it makes much difference. He isn’t far down his inter-train snack before he gives up on the repast entirely – and throws up at her feet.

Yum!

I shall keep my ears open for future incident – particularly any such incident involving tramps, drunks or pasties. I shall advise against her holidaying in Cornwall any time soon.

jane
xx

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Fighting injustice – and winning the Cornish Pastie war

An exciting ten days or so, ending, I think, very much on an up.

Definitely been a week when legal strikes have started coming home to roost…many of them successfully. Sadly, the terms of trade mean I can’t say much more than that.

There’s the tax credit case where I contributed to someone not ending up on the street: the professional body where – fingers crossed – I sense a gradual backing off in respect of someone who doesn’t deserve to be treated as they were planning to treat her. But that is still very much up in the air, so best not to do any chicken-counting on that one JUST yet.

And today, an instance where I have been “helping police with their inquiries” – yes: that isn’t always shorthand for someone having done bad – seems finally to have resulted in a very positive result for the fight against discrimination. Except, I am warned, I mustn’t post details of the who, what, when or where of the incident, or it could be my turn to have my wrist slapped. Darn!

Still, a conversation to be had on Monday with a very civilised police inspector…and after that, I’ll post as much as I am allowed.

Step-daughter’s school has now said it has no probs recognising my name change WITHOUT a deed poll or stat dec. So that’s yet another official body happy to go along with name change on my say-so – and another rebuff to the Gender Recognition Panel, whose official position that “for practical purposes to change a name with official bodies, a document evidencing the change of name is required” looks increasingly threadbare.

Maybe its like that “What have the Romans ever done for us?” sketch.

For practical purposes, a document is required to change your name with official bodies. Apart from the Inland Revenue? Oh, yes: apart from the Inland Revenue.

And the NHS? Yes.

And apart from the NHS, the LEA?

Yes.

Vehicle Licensing. Electoral Registration. Births, Deaths, Marriages?

Water. Electric. Gas?

Yep.

So apart from Tax, Health, Education, Voting, Property Taxes, Motor Vehicles, Utilities and some Banks.. a document is required to change a name with official bodies?

Exactly.

One starts to wonder what planet these people are living on. :)

As far as Charing Cross goes, that has de-escalated nicely, and I appear to be having a civilised conversation with their Services Manager. The nuclear option – of legal action for discrimination – is stepped down (for the time being): although the fact that so far they have said that we seem to be very close to agreeing… and have since handed me a document suggesting we disagree totally means that I may need to remain at DefCon 2 (or whatever the apt military metaphor is) for the time being.

And the icing on the cake? On Wednesday, returning home via Kings Cross, a lovely young man (gosh! I sound like a maiden aunt!) sold me a cornish pastie. As I asked him how much they were, he glanced over and went: “£2.90, Ma’am”.

Yes! I love you, Cornish pastie salesboy! Things are definitely looking up.

Jane
xx

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