DiT, and the day Patriotism Died...
It was cold. So very, very cold. My breath fogged in the air as I cycled past Smithfields market on a freezing February evening in 2008. I had just purchased a shiny new red bicycle, I was riding it home, and all was good with the world. The market had closed for the evening, and there were still a few city workers straggling around the pubs and eateries that EC1 has to offer the world. Strangely, for this part of London, all seemed at peace and, I reflected, this was a wonderful city in a wonderful country.

That is, until the first police motorcycle shot past me at approximately 1,000 miles an hour, siren blaring (and if that wasn’t enough the rider was blowing on a whistle like his life depended on it). Screeching to a halt at a set of traffic lights, he continued blowing on his whistle for all he was worth while giving all sorts of hand gestures. The officer was stopping traffic with manic efficiency.

No sooner had this little mission been completed than a cavalcade of no less than seven police motorcyclists screamed past, each of them securing roads and blowing whistles and generally getting in the bloody way. “What’s this?” thought I, “Someone important approaches!” – never one to miss a signal, me. Carefully, I dismounted my bicycle, and stood to the side of the road. One, two, three Land Rovers with blacked-out windows sped past and then, emerging from the London night like a sleek, black Rolls Royce, came a sleek, black stretched Rolls Royce, travelling fairly slowly to negotiate the corner it was coming around.

And in the back seat of the Roller was a lady who looked very familiar. I had the oddest sensation that I’d licked her face on several hundred occasions, and that she tasted of glue. She was joined by an elderly chap who I was sure, if he had spoken to me, would have found some way to insult me. And then the penny dropped.

It was the bloody Queen.

The Queen! At Smithfields! And Phil was with her! And I’m stood right next to the car that is right now trying to get round the corner, with my new shiny red bike. What should I do? What should I do?

I’m afraid to say, dear reader, that I panicked. I didn’t display my behind, nor did I rush the car and start a revolution, nor did I flip the reigning Monarch the traditional ‘bird’. No. Somewhere, out of the deep recesses of my memory of my time in Air Cadets, came the idea that I am to respect and admire the Queen and so – and oh Lord is this shameful – I drew myself up to my full 5’ 7” (and a half, thank you so much), and I saluted. Long way up, short way down, eyes front. Respect.

What on earth did I think would happen? That Elizabeth Regina would call to her driver to “put the blady brakes orn”, leap out of the car and give me a knighthood plus land, a cash prize and a free go on Zara Phillips for being such a good, upstanding and patriotic citizen of the Empire?

Did she bollocks. Not a bloody flicker. I stood there, in the freezing cold of a February evening, saluting a woman and a man who were sat in the back seat of a stupidly long car by dint of coming out of the right womb, and they didn’t even look my way.

However, the people in the pub behind me were looking. And oh, how they laughed.

Thanks, your Majesty. Thanks a lot.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 14:21, 11 replies)

Lols
Clicked
( The Scrunt Wants a Dozen Pints, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 15:03, closed)

Bless you sir
I think I saw her Maj. that night too, I was on the way home from work on Leadenhall Street. She was doing something right regal at the Lloyds building, IIRC.
( chart cat has an itch, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 15:27, closed)

She obviously recognised you.
And hence treated your display of patriotism with the suspicion of sarcasm it deserved. See, she got it right even if you didn't.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Tue 13 Oct 2009, 15:52, closed)

Well, you saluted but
you were out of uniform you pleb. Consider yourself lucky she didn't have you beheaded.
(Richy_T hundreds if not thousands of dollars, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 16:35, closed)

And
He wasn't wearing any headdress to boot, I'll wager.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Thu 15 Oct 2009, 9:12, closed)

The scary thing is, I can actually see you doing this
*clicks for making me laugh like a mong on acid*
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 21:29, closed)

Oh my gods!
Someone told a funny story this week!

*click*
(misskitty reeks of sex and turpentine; laudanum afternoons, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 23:02, closed)

let those
unpatriotic bastards laugh, you did the right thing squire.
(Singo69, Tue 13 Oct 2009, 23:40, closed)

Oh yes she did notice.
She's got radar, she does.

I suppose the next time jolly old England invades Whateverthefuckistan, yours will be the first phone to ring...
(The 2-Belo OH SHI--[Sound of impact][End of recording], Thu 15 Oct 2009, 7:00, closed)

He's BACK!
Start the fanfare!

*blasts trumpet*

*clicks*
(Flim-Flam the Magnificent "You is talking loco and I like it!", Thu 15 Oct 2009, 9:26, closed)

I've seen her
At Holborn, speeding past,
I didn't know what to do so waved limply,
She appeared horrified.
(lochii, Thu 15 Oct 2009, 10:09, closed)