Sunday, December 24, 2006

I'd send Pepe a bag of Christmas potatoes...

Here's a little Daniel Gross piece on the worst Christmas "bonus" ever:

"A reader reported that his wife, a dental assistant, received a $30 certificate to the fancy clothing store owned by the dentist's wife, in which no item for sale was close to that price... Perhaps the most Dickensian example comes from Scrooge's homeland. One writer nominated his former employer, David Bury Ltd in the Dickensian-sounding town of Grimsby. "During my time with the company as a consumer electronic service engineer, the annual Christmas bonus given to all employees was a bag of potatoes," he writes. Apparently a relative of the boss owned a potato farm."

4 comments:

Tecumseh said...

Those friendly bacteria are licking their chops, waiting for Pepe to ingest gargantuan quantities of patates, liberally splayed with smelly Auvergne cheese -- not to mention that crusty baguette brought back under the armpit from that beret-clad trip to the corner store, with the trusty Gauloise hanging from the lip at a rackish angle.

How's that for Dickensian prose?

My Frontier Thesis said...

AI, also don't forget to add: Charles Dickens was just another bourgeoise writer who profitted at the expense of others at the outset of the Industrial Revolution in England.

Tecumseh said...

And he ate pork pie? And porridge? Yet another reason for the pinko-French to look askance at him.

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