Saturday

Britain

I saw Britain in a kebab shop tonight. I'm writing because I was too shy to photograph it.
A youngish Mediterranean m man was cleaning some sort of deep fast fryer. It had a clamp down lid which was currently open, while he scrubbed at the insides with what looked like a big bog brush. Stained onto the underside of the flipped-up lid was brown grease. But the grease wasn't a consistent pattern, because there were gaps from where a basket has blocked out the splash back of the hot fat. And for some reason, the basis formed a perfect double-cross; like someone had gone and scratched the union jack onto the burnt-on fat off the fryer in Broadway market kebab shop.

What a great photo it would have made. I'd have won some award for sure.

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