A young girl came up to the deli counter the other day, eyes wide and smile bright as she studied the array of tasters of cheese, grapes and olives available, but slightly out of reach.
“Grand-pa, please can I try?” She pointed at the small plate of olives.
The older man shook his head. “Sorry, dear, but they’ve got pepper in them and they might be too hot for you.”
The little girl’s smile fell.
My friend, working behind the counter turned and said, “No, she could try them. It’s only a salad pepper. They won’t be spicy.”
“They’re bell end peppers!” came a shout from the other end of the counter, from my friend’s work colleague.
The little girl by then had changed her mind, and settled on some cheese and grapes instead and they left.
My friend turned to her colleague and said, “I think you mean Bell peppers.”
Her colleague shook their head. “No, no. I used to wear those jeans at school, you know, bell end trousers.”
My friend rolled her eyes and smirked. “You mean bell bottom trousers?”
Mental head slap, her colleague said, “Oh yeah, you’re right!”