In what has been described by somebody middle-class as ‘a further victory for common sense’ a popular old Petersfield pub is to be allowed to keep using its mediaeval latrine.
The 17th century The Marrow, at Steep, has also been cleared of breaching the Equal Opportunities Act after undercover investigators discovered no working-class customers during the whole month of January.
A report put before the EO commission stated that ‘only local land-owners appeared to frequent the establishment. During our time there we did not see one youth with his jeans hanging down from his buttocks’.
It added: “The talk was all of local people, their children’s private schools, their horses and how they could no longer maintain a full domestic staff AND two holiday homes. Not once did we hear talk of Cheryl Cole or Big Brother – it seemed wholly exclusive.”
But regular customer Giles Farmer insisted: “Hullo. Hullo. Hullo. What? It just so happens that those are the subjects we prefer to discuss. And we prefer to wear our trousers at waist level – or in some cases, held up by string or hoisted up to our rugby-shirt-covered chest.
“Take the toilet facilities: many of us have domestic staff who still have no indoor plumbing facilities so it’s nothing unusual for us. The sight of somebody leaning out of a first-floor window and emptying a bucket of effluent into the street is a centuries-old British tradition, so we’re delighted to hear it will continue.
“People are too softened by things such as the Human Rights Act these days. If you want breath-mint dispensers, Dyson Airblade hand-dryers and ‘plastic’ food, there will be a Netherboons opening soon in Petersfield. However, if you want proper, decent home-cooked fare and traditional country customs you go to the Marrow.
“It has nothing to do with Class, but everything to do with class.”
Petersfield Newswire sent unemployed, drug-addled teenager Chas Chavley undercover to the Marrow to see how he fared.
He said: “It was shit! There was no jukebox, no pool table, no Sky Sports, no room to lean up against a wall and puke when you’re drunk… rubbish.
“And the bar staff were no good. They were polite and didn’t have their tits hanging out. They offered me something called 'ale' and didn't have any Stella. As for the food, it was full of fresh stuff, vegetables and shit in the soup. No fries anywhere. And the bread was warm for f***’s sake. It’ll never catch on.
“What's more they wouldn't accept credit cards. What's the point of me swiping me mum's plastic if I can't use it? I’m heading back to town.”
Upon hearing this, Newswire editor, DJ Upwardly-Mobile, left his desk, grabbed his jacket and departed with the words “If you need me I’ll be at the Marrow for a lunch of a brie ploughman’s…” hanging in the air.
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