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Free speech no longer exists within the walls----------------


Senior Member
Dear Members a snippet not quite on par with Hal the Elders sad thread however quite disturbing to myself.

This morning as I sat at my breakfast table meditating as to the benefits of a flatbed toaster as opposed to a wide four slot Breville, when my reverie was interrupted by the crunch of bicycle wheels on my recently re-gravelled drive. I rose from the table and in my haste spilled half a cup of drinking chocolate (organic/slimline 85% cocoa.) This little disaster was nothing compared the yoke of shame I was about to be burdened with.

I hastened to my double bow window and espied the rider of the machine dismounting. The person in question being Parker (Nosey) to members, the head porter of my gentleman's club in London. He carried in his hand a heavily embossed envelope decorated with the sign of the dreaded four black balls. I hesitated before responding to his genteel but urgent rapping on my front door, himself totally disregarding the notice which boldly proclaimed `Tradesmen and servants back entrance.` (In English and a variety of Eastern European languages.)

I opened the door (Housekeepers half day off.) and Parker with what I can only describe as an insolent smirk on his lips thrust the envelope into my hand without as much as a good morning sir or doffing of his hat. (I must concede he was wearing a crash helmet.) He stood with his hand still outstretched awaiting the customary gratuity. I dug deep into the pocket of my corduroy trousers and placed a five pence piece in his hand. Without as much as a `By your leave Sir or a thank you` he turned recovered his bicycle from my bed of `Night Stock`
mounted and set off, his liveried coat tails flapping behind him.

Re-ntering the breakfast room I availed myself of a paper knife, ironically a gift from fellow members of the club as to my suggestion box note that ` Old retainers below the rank of Head of Hepartment should forcibly be retired at eighty years of age instead of the compulsory eighty five, and that the grace and favour room allocated to same have a rent increase in line with current London properties.

A sense of foreboding fell upon my person because the emblem of the black balls could only mean one thing and add to this the attitude of Nosey made what the letter contained pretty obvious.

Never the less I will reveal it`s contents and they are as follows addressed very formally giving my full rank and title instead of the name I was normally addressed by `Snadger` ( for those of you not acquainted with club vernacular this was in reference to my preference for `Snowball Turnips ` as a winter vegetable.)

You have guessed it fellow forum members I had been blackballed forbidden ever again to tread the exalted halls of the club I had loved for so many years. Been a hearty supporter of the ban on woman members and with reluctance agreed to a quarterly ` Ladies Night Dinners.` and this was my reward for loyalty.

And now the reason: I had complained bitterly to the Club Secretary about how the quality of the repast served for lunch on `Steak and Kidney Pudding Tuesday` had deteriorated (A tradition started when the club was founded in Pall Mall 1819 .) and the customary dessert `Spotted Dick with Creme Anglaise substituted with a choice of lemon or orange sorbets.

Unbeknown to me the Caterer/Supplier was the third cousin of the Secretary and the scribe had taken umbridge to my remarks, lobbied fellow members, and I was `Blackballed at an Extraordinary General Meeting. The attendees were listed but it was not disclosed who had cast the `blackball` but I have my suspicion.

For reasons of decorum I will not disclose the name of the club but it was the starting point of `Round the World in Eighty Days.`Regds. A rather forlorn N.


Surrealist Contributor.
Cafe Moderator
I am sorry to hear that. Since the R club started accepting women and foreigners, I knew it was cursed forever.

Colin the Bear

Well-Known Member
Sorry couldn't finish your initial post. My reading glasses wore out. I'll get a couple more pairs and have another go.


Among the pigeons
I can only recommend to you Groucho's well known wise words on club membership.


Senior Member
It sounds very much as though the Messenger was a member of the Scullion family- evidenced by the fact that he failed to knuckle the brow of his crash helmet. Had you thought about it sooner you could have harnessed your Zimmer and high-tailed round to the club before he could return and tendered your resignation (on that headed notepaper of yours with the cherished footer of "medicated with Izal germicide"). I feel certain that provided your application is submitted on the necessary bit of folding you would be admitted to the ranks of the C&SLM. That'd larn 'em!!

Pleased you are taking this blow to your pride in such a manly fashion.




Lost In Theory
(on that headed notepaper of yours with the cherished footer of "medicated with Izal germicide").
Ooooh no the torturous memories flooding back to me of stays at my grannies during my childhood years. I wonder whether I can bear to return to the cafe, or whether I shall retire to hide in the dark under my duvet and hope that the world will simply go away?!
Saxholder Pro

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