"Nicholls, David - Starter for Ten" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nicholls David)

in passing. And anyway, compared to other qualities, like
physical courage, or popularity, or good looks, or clear skin,
or an active sex-life, just knowing a whole load of stuff isn't
actually that important.

But like my dad used to say, the crucial thing about an
education is the opportunity that it brings, the doors it opens,
because otherwise knowledge, in and of itself, is a blind alley,
especially from where I'm sitting, here, on a late September
Wednesday afternoon, in a factory that makes toasters.

I've spent the holiday working in the despatch department
of Ashworth Electricals, which means I'm responsible for
putting the toasters in their boxes before they're sent out
to the retailers. Of course, there are only so many ways you
can put a toaster in a box, so it's been a pretty dull couple of
months over all, but on the plus side it's г1.85 an hour, which
isn't bad, and as much toast as you can eat. As it's my last
day here, I've been keeping an eye open for the surreptitious
passing-round of the goodbye card and the collection for the
leaving present, and waiting to find out which pub we're going
to for farewell drinks, but it's 6.15 now, so I think it's probably
safe to assume that everyone's just gone home.

Just as well though, because I had other plans anyway, so
I get my stuff, grab a handful of biros and a roll of sellotape
from the stationery cupboard and head off to the pier, where
I'm meeting Spencer and Tone.


At 2,360 yards, or 2.158 kilometres, Southend pier is officially
the longest pier in the world. This is probably a little bit too long, to be honest, especially when you're carrying a lot of
lager. We've got twelve large cans of Skol, sweet-and-sour pork
balls, special-fried-rice and a portion of chips with curry sauce
- flavours from around the world - but by the time we reach
the end of the pier, the lagers are warm and the takeaway's
cold. As this is a special celebration Tone's also had to lug his
ghetto-blaster, which is the size of a small wardrobe and, it's
STARTER FOR TEN


fair to say, will probably never blast a ghetto, unless you count
Shoeburyness. At the moment it's playing Tone's homemade
compilation The Best Of The Zep as we settle down on a bench
at the end and watch as the sun sets majestically over the petrol
refinery.

'You're not going to turn into a wanker, are you?' says