Ba-ba-ba, ba-babara
When I was a wee young nipper in year 10, at the tender age of 14, myself and two friends named Petley and Egghead used to be tight bastards.

At the time I didn't think of it like that but a post about scrounging 10p per head for a can of coke (a pretty regular occurance at school) reminded me of it.

Our school canteen had four 'bars', if you will - cold snacks; pasta and potatoes; pizza/chips etc and one for burgers/hot dogs and the like. Jamie Oliver would have done his nut but the pasta was one of the nicest things on there so perhaps not so much.

The pizza part was staffed by Michelle and Barbara, two lovely ladies. Well, Michelle was two-pinter and Barbara was ten breweries; a right warty Jabba. But they were kind-hearted souls and we got on with them in order to stuff our faces with greasy crap.

Once when we were queueing quite late in the lunchbreak, we saw Barbara giving free chips to some Year 11s. Well, get in! We immediately asked for some free stuff and scored a burger and two slices of pizza - since there were only a few minutes until the bell went, this stuff wouldn't sell so they gave it away. Awesome. That was their excuse anyway, but Barb once said that Petley had 'come to bed eyes' so we weren't sure if it was dinnerlady flirtation.

Every lunchtime without fail from Year 10 until the last GCSE exam; Petley, Egghead and I would go to Barbara. The trip was preceded with either one of us softly humming "Ba-ba-ba, ba-babara" to the tune of... well, I doubt I need to tell you. Alternatively, we would look at our watches and announce "Barbara" to the group whereby we would leave silently and as one to head off to scrounge. Rarely, we would simply exchange a meaningful look, one that said simply "you know what to do."

It was a varied experience - you could score hugely, recieving one or two burgers and a packet of chips. You could do alright, perhaps a solitary pack of chips or a manky slice of pizza. There were the no-shows, when they were out of food or simply told the tight cunts that we were to fuck off. Then there were the debatable results - you'd get the remnants of the 'Meal of the Day', often a dubious lasagne or a weird bit of flan.

At the end of Year 11 we bought Barb a box of Milk Tray (because the lady loves and the fat lady loves more) and a card. She was truly touched and actually had watery eyes. The first week of Sixth Form we went back and she barely regarded us and gave us fuck-all, bitch. But we were allowed to go down to the shops now so we never used the canteen again.

Long live Barbara.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Fri 24 Oct 2008, 0:58, 1 reply)

Pizza sandwiches and...
Pizza, chips and a panda pop. Wo-oh-ohh. Wo-oh-ohh.
(Martin1337 was trying and failing to be funny at, Fri 24 Oct 2008, 9:10, closed)