The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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4:28pm on Monday, 26th January, 2015:
At lunch today, I overheard two American students talking about chips.
They had decided that chips were indeed a different thing to fries, and so referred to them as chips the whole time. They liked the concept of them, but found them too soggy. They didn't like the way they seemed to come with food that you wouldn't expect them to come with, such as high cuisine at fancy restaurants. They didn't like how bland they were, and that you had to dip them in sauce to make them edible.
At this point, I was poised to intervene. Clearly, these students didn't understand what a chip is! It's not a fried piece of potato: it's a fried piece of potato with salt and vinegar on it. If you don't add the salt and vinegar, what you have is about as tasty as straw. If you do, it transforms into the wondrous consumable that is a chip.
I didn't intervene, however, because at that moment I was emptying a sachet of vinegar onto my own chips and hadn't torn a hole big enough. It sprayed out all over me. I spent the next four hours (which included a two-hour lecture) smelling of vinegar, and only now I'm home can I change my clothes into something less acetic.
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