Bring a bird and a bottle
I had just arrived in London from Mauritius, and was naturally unfamiliar with English mores, and more specifically the lingo. I started teaching at a small private school in Streatham, and my pupils loved to make fun of the way I talked. I told myself that it was good-natured banter and learnt to live with it.
There were one or two fellow Mauritians I knew from back home, and we would sometimes meet in the West-End on a Saturday to catch a film or a play. When a fellow teacher invited me to a little do on Saturday, he said, If you can, bring a bird and a bottle, but you don’t have to. Also I don’t live too far just take the Number 11. As I had no idea what he meant, I checked with my countryman. A bird, he explained, is a chicken, just buy a frozen chicken from Tesco’s, and a bottle is an empty bottle of milk. I was puzzled, but my friend laughed, You’ll get used to the eccentricities of the English, he said patronisingly. And how do I catch at Number 11 in Streatham, they don’t come here. He scratched his head. It’s the lingo. Catch the Number 11 means you can walk it. Legs eleven.
On the Saturday afternoon, I bought a frozen chicken, and washed an empty milk bottle, and when the time came, having checked that he did indeed live within walking distance on the A-Z London Street Map, I set out to my first London party, with my chicken and empty milk bottle in my rucksack.
For years afterwards, my friends never let me forget that.
