There’s a restaurant near us that we sometimes go to, which is in an old building. You’ve been in places like this before: it was an ancient thing to begin with, all wooden beams and low ceilings and big oak beams everywhere, but then it’s been extended by knocking through into bits of other buildings and there’s more bits taking it through the back into what used to be an outhouse of some kind. Now it’s a rambling maze on the inside, full of little rooms and cosy nooks. It’s nice.
Anyway, there’s one table tucked away in a little space of its own, surrounded by oak beam walls and artfully exposed ancient masonry, and whenever people go to sit there, they find themselves having to go up two steps and then go back down one step again. It’s like a little barrier on the way in that is a positive invitation to trip up and go headlong into a table full of unsuspecting diners. The floor level on both sides is barely any different, so it’s just in the way.
Anyway, I’ve noticed this several times and always thought it was odd. Turns out they must get asked about it a lot, so they’ve put a sign on the step to explain why there is a step in this eminently stupid place.
9 comments on “Mind your step”
Listed buildings? That makes sense. Listed steps? You’re not impressing anyone, mate. Nobody gives a hoot about your Elizabethan hump on the floor.
I’m going to tell them that if I ever go back.
“Oi, mate. I’ll have the house red and the triple beef extravaganza. And while you’re here, listen: nobody cares about your Elizabethan hump. On your way.”
It’s a huge loser thing to have.
“Nobody touch my step! It was built in the twenteen hundreds!” or whatever it is the owners say.
Lame. Go get a billboard and do something with your life.
Tell you what. If I ever go back I’ll kick it on the way past. I’ll wear my steel toe caps and I’ll give it a right boot to the goolies from you.
That’s the stuff! Give it what for, heave ho, tip top. I bet it’s got such a high opinion of itself. To knock it down a peg or two, or even three, would really make my year (it’s been a slow year).
I can send you the pictures if you like. Then you can revel in the glory of this high-falutin step being given a sharp reminder of its place in the world.
That sounds like a great idea. You bully the step, take some photos and send them to me. You can even throw in a couple of reaction shots from me if you like.
Can you send me some reaction shots of you, so I’ve got some to send you?
Of course, mate. I’ll send them over this evening for you.