Page 55 - Phonebox Magazine October 2008

Ifinally feel, after almost three joyful years trading in Olney, that I have, um, what’s the word? Arrived, that’s the one. What evidence do I have for that bold conclusion? The health and safety officer came to see me yesterday.
future, and United Kingdom laws of which I do not approve, shall not apply. See www.icetwice.com for the detailed list, it’s quite long, but here are a few highlights.
Nice chap, very polite, but for some reason
obsessed with ladders. I don’t condemn
him for that, a mere observation. He asked
to see ours. I showed him. His eyes lit up. A
dangerously, shamelessly, LONG ladder.
Then he was downcast because I
explained we don’t use it for climbing up,
or indeed down, rather we display books
on it, bizarre as that might seem. I used to
climb ladders, and even trees as a child,
but I don’t anymore because my distant
Uncle Dick fell off one and died and they scare me now. I like a good wobble but I like to have my feet on (or at least near) the ground during it.
1. No regulations about ladders at all! 2. Smoking in the lounge bar (I shall build one shortly) shall be legal. 3. Small children may be freely clipped around the ear for fiddling with books or jewellery. 3(a). Parents of same may be summarily executed without warning. 4. Cakes may be sold without labels showing ingredients. 5. Possession of knives is actively encouraged (for cutting cake, obviously).
Where was I? Yes, the poor soul was aghast. He pointed at pictures on the wall and made me prove that I could reach them without the use of the aforementioned ladder, which I could. Crestfallen, he turned his attention elsewhere. Nothing else got him as high as ladders though (groan). On the point of leaving, he cheered up. “Sir”, he said, “You don’t have a No Smoking sign in your window”. “True”, said I. “Why”? “You must get one”, he said, in a voice very reminiscent of the verger in Dad’s Army, “to stop people smoking on the premises”.
I just wanted to get you all nostalgic for carefree times so I could slip in an announcement that we now have a Gratuitous Nostalgia section in the bookstore, whichcontains tomes such as these, on Eleven Plus questions and O Level papers, or Highway Codes of Yesteryear.
I’m only telling you all this really because I’ve always secretly admired the hat that Margaret Rutherford woreinPtoPandIwantanexcusetowearone.
What’s the ulterior motive I hear you ask? Bugger, rumbled.
I’ve been here nearly three years now. Nobody has ever attempted to come in with a fag, I’ll rephrase that, a cigarette, and if they did I would throw them out. I told him I would get a sign, but, to be truthful, I fibbed a smidge. I probably shan’t. Not without coercion anyway. I may put a sign up saying ‘No Health & Safety’ though.
You will probably now experience an overwhelming desire to come and buy them all. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed. It’s a perfectly normal reaction and your friends will not think any the less of you. In fact, bring them along and encourage them to join you in your petty perversion is what I say. I shall avert my eyes and pretend to be filling in a council form requesting permission to use a ladder, which could actually be for real because tasks such as these take up most of my time anyway. Grrr. K
I mention this because the episode has caused me to
up the ante.
I hereby declare ICETWICE an independent state, as (I think) Stanley Holloway did in Passport to Pimlico! Freshly stamped visas (or crisp £20 notes) will be required to gain entry in
Phonebox Magazine 55