Understatement - Pure Poetry

I love understatement.

There’s a chippy at work that I’ve got a lot of time for. I know him from another job. Dave, tall fellow, bearded, great ink on his arms.

English but travelled a lot so has a bit of an Aussie twang to his accent. (QPR supporter, but what can you say?)

Dave once gave me a lift home from Milton Keynes when we’d been out on the piss. I jumped in the RC Framework guy’s van as they were heading back to London and Dave gave me a lift right to my door. “Don’t worry about it, Karl, I’ve got to take this lot all over North London, so taking you home won’t make any difference at all.”

Anyway, it was absolutely freezin’ out on the slab yesterday, -5ºC or something like that. Very cold. I’d been out there about an hour and a half, and as I came in I bumped into Dave, trying to warm his fingers and hunched up like we all do to conserve heat.

“Bloody cold isn’t it, Dave?”

“It is a bit chilly, Karl?” he agreed, “Quite a nip in the air.”

Pure poetry.