Just an informal interview
So I invited him to eat,
Lunch in the works canteen
Watched him take his seat.
I could tell he was a peasant
The way he was sitting there.
He broke his roll into his soup
And he cut his sandwich square.
Not diagonally, corner to corner
The way refined folk do
Just sliced it horizontally
Cutting it squarely in two.
And when he'd eaten his soup
It wasn't with little refined slips
From a spoon pushed away
To avoid any embarrassing drips.
He stuck his napkin into his collar
Not laid carefully across his knee
And whitest he was still munching
Took a large swig of his tea.
No napkin pressed to his mouth
Between each hearty bite
Really quite distasteful
Not at all a pleasant sight.
I looked on in despair.
I was eating with a yob,
So I marked his file suspect
And he didn't get the job.
It was only for post of cleaner,
And to brew the workers's tea,
Standards have to be maintained
By enlightened employers like me.
So, I bought a large sized urn instead,
Calculated how long it would take,
Then added another five minutes
To the workers' allotted tea break.
