On Being Middle Class

[clovehitched]

OK, so I freely admit that I'm irredeemably middle class. I live in the middle of Cambridge. I previously worked in microelectronics. I drive a Toyota Prius. I'm writing this on an Apple laptop resting on my cherry wood dining table. Looking up at the bookshelf, I see books by Carl Sagan and China Mieville. I'm about to get married in a Cambridge college. I don't just drink Scotch, I drink single malt Islay whisky, I own a wok and chopsticks (and am proficient with them), and so on.

But I do at least take comfort from not being like these people.

I mean, I don't even know what quinoa is, and in a sort of inverted snobbery, remnants of my east midlands coalfields upbringing kinda way, regard this as probably a good thing.

But then I realised that when I'm feeling inexplicably tired, and want properly waking up with a nice cup of builder's tea, with milk and sugar, rather than some of the green earl grey, or white jasmine, or rooibos, or sencha that I have in my cupboard, the "builder's tea" I end up making is Assam, brewed in a Bodum glass teapot, whitened with milk from a bottle that was delivered to my doorstep this morning, sweetened with unrefined brown cane sugar. This led to realising the awful, awful truth; while I may never buy an Aga (and please shoot me if I do), and regard organic food as being "a bit of a con, really", I really, really am like those people.

I'm doomed!

Comments

[cyberspice.livejournal.com]

I'm doomed too then! But I knew this anyway. Both my mother and father are invariably middle class (and millionaires). My grandfather ran the company firm. My grand mother on the other side was working class but was milliner to Queen Mary! I was brought up in middle class suburbia. Nothing I could do but give in to the inevitable.

PS. My 'builders tea' is also Assam. I drive a Volvo and I used to have a dog in the back!