Abstract: Gertcha by the wiener. Tags: fireworks, photos, video, bier, Chas ’n’ Dave, hot dogs

Last night, eight of us from Enfield Clubhouse went to Alexandra Palace to see London’s largest and most popular fireworks display. Here’s a video I took. The fireworks were pretty and spectacular - worth seeing, if you like that kind of thing!

After the fireworks, we climbed up the hill to the Palace itself and queued to get into the German Bier Festival. To call it a Festival is really a big overstatement. It’s a few years since I went to a beer festival and it was most likely Up North in deepest, darkest Bury, Lancashire, or somewhere like that. Maybe they do them differently Down South, but this was a bit of a let down. One tiny little bar, like you might find in a marquee at a modern marketed music festival. One brand of German Bier - Paulaner - and only two varieties: Munich and Weiss. The Weiss was off by the time I had been pushed and shoved forward by the ten deep bar queue. If you didn’t fancy Paulaner Munich, you could have that old Bavarian favourite, Foster’s. And they insisted on calling it Bier, which makes me wonder how authentic it really was. Not that authenticity seemed to be high on the agenda as it was all served in the obligatory health and safety plastic beakers.

So, we all got beer and seats in the Great Hall by which time a bunch of Cockney Irish fiddlers and banjoists started murdering Pogues’ classics, much to the delight of the mostly student audience who I’m sure were out of their minds by now. Not that it stopped one of the thieving little tykes nicking my beer when I laid it down to rest and turned my back for five minutes.

What followed is a little hazy - maybe the bier was real, after all.

I fear that I may have danced to Chas But Not Dave or Chas And His Band or whatever Chas ’n’ Dave are now known as. I was a little disturbed by the large, bald bass player, especially when he kept repeating ‘Gertcha!’ like an overly loud belch, totally drowning out scrawny-looking Chas on vocals.

To make matters worse, on leaving, I stopped for a Hot Dog.

‘Sorry, no onions’ said the serving assistant.

‘Oh, that’s a shame. I like onions on my Hot Dog. So. They are £3.00 with onions, right?’

‘That’s right, sir, but we don’t have any onions left.’

‘No, you don’t. So, if it’s £3.00 with onions… how much is it for a Hot Dog without onions?’

‘It’s £3.00, sir. With or without onions.’

By this time I was already in full Basil Fawlty mode.

‘I’d like a discount, please. If it’s £3.00 for a Hot Dog with onions, then I’d like 20% off for a Hot Dog without onions.’

‘It’s £3.00, sir. With or without onions.’

‘How can it be the same price, with or without onions?’

‘It’s £3.00, sir. With or without onions.’

‘So, can I have a discount, then or not? I’m willing to pay £2.40 for a Hot Dog without onions. If only you’d removed the empty onion trays and not told me you had no onions I’d never have known. Or you could scrape up the remaining slivers and let me have those….’

Now, I felt like Yossarian in Catch-22 trying to get out of the Air Force by being crazy, but being told that he couldn’t be crazy because he wanted to leave. And only a sane man would want to leave.

‘I’m sorry, sir, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t give a discount. I just work here. It’s £3.00, sir. With or without onions.’

‘You could give me a discount if you wanted to. I’m sure you could.’

The guy (no pun intended) behind me piped up, offering to call the Office Of Fair Trading. I suggested that they might want to consult the Sale Of Consumer Goods Act.

‘I can’t give a discount, sir. It’s £3.00, with or without onions.’

‘OK, I give in. I’ll have a Hot Dog without onions for £3.00.’

‘You have to pay first, sir.’

‘What?! But you just gave him one! He hasn’t paid yet!’

‘I’m sorry, sir. You have to pay first and then I’ll give you the Hot Dog.’

A young American woman approached me.

‘Please stop harassing my staff, sir.’

‘What?! Harassing your staff?! You’ve got to be joking?!’

‘No, sir. You’re harassing my staff. Now, please stop it or I will have to call Security to come and remove you.’

‘All I want is a Hot Dog with onions for £3.00 as advertised. If you don’t have onions, then fine, I’ll buy a bareback Hot Dog for £2.40.’

‘Sir, you can buy a Hot Dog without onions for £3.00 or go without.’

‘Why can’t you give me a discount?’

‘I only work here, sir. I can’t give you a discount.’

‘Hang on. I thought you were in charge? Surely you can use your discretion and keep your customers happy? I just spent plenty of money tonight on donating to the cost of the fireworks display and buying beer for me and my friends.’

‘What’s your problem, mate?’ asked a student grumpily and who looked like he had dyed his original wiry ginger hair black. ‘It says Hot Dogs £3.00. Doesn’t say anything about onions.’

‘No, I know it doesn’t say anything about onions. That’s a very good point. And that’s why I’m not going to engage you in any further conversation. Enjoy your Hot Dog! Thank you all and goodnight.’

Thanks also, to Lee, Gemma, Michael, Atul, Dan, Raheem and Angelina for making it a fun night out. And my apologies for any offence caused to the Hot Dog stand workers.