When sausages cause a female stampede
The Local · 2 Nov 2007, 19:07
Published: 02 Nov 2007 19:07 GMT+01:00
‘Are you excited?’, I asked David ‘Mr Sausage’ Taylor about the very imminent opening of his first shop in Stockholm.
‘Well, to be honest I’m a bit nervous’, he said and I can see why, as a mental image of hoards of clamouring, flushed, wild eyed women, their fists crammed with five hundred kronor notes, battering down his door, flashed before my eyes.
Mr Taylor, a butcher originally from Northern Ireland, has built up a very loyal and enthusiastic clientele both here in Stockholm and down in Gothenburg, based to date on his home delivery service.
I hear from my sources that the good women from one of Stockholm’s posher suburbs (which shall remain nameless as their secret is safe with me) positively stampede in a most unladylike fashion in their haste to be first in line for Mr Sausage on his refrigerated van delivery days. But I can understand why - sometimes the thought of Swedish falukorv, a sort of grotesquely florid, mechanically recovered sausage, is just assimilation gone silly and when you are desperate for the real thing, the arrival of Mr Taylor and his wares might well cause an outbreak of over enthusiastic behaviour.
Yours truly was treated to a sneaky peek behind the scenes at his new premises, no doubt much to the seething jealousy of many an expatriate woman, and I am delighted to report that it is certainly a fair size and spotlessly clean. The shop actually opens Monday 5 Nov at 10 am and will stock all his popular sausages, including a new variety called Regency Pork - heavens, it‘s going to be handbags at dawn to be first in the queue with those, I can tell you. Irish and English cheeses, together with Welsh free range beef will all be available too, together with his pies and pasties and all sorts of pates and pickles.
The nice thing about Mr Taylor, apart from his excellent products, is that he is the type of person who knows all his customers by name and both he and his new business partner Gareth Jones are extremely helpful when it comes to giving advice to those of us who may be somewhat intimidated by a large chunk of raw meat. So, ladies, be gentle with them.
Speaking of large chunks of raw meat, I found myself at the Fair Erotica’s Ladies Night, entirely for research purposes, I hasten to add. And let me get something straight right from the outset - there wasn’t anything remotely erotic or even a bit naughty about it.
In fairness, I only caught a couple of the male strippers’ acts but they just looked like nice, clean cut boys who took their clothes off and wiggled about a bit to pay off their student loans. I imagine that they were probably trying to memorize their periodic tables or Einstein’s theory of relativity while they were doing things with whipped cream and posing pouches so it just wasn’t very sexy really, unless you’re a science undergraduate with limited experience of the outside world.
But the ladies did seem to be having a nice time, if not an outrageous time, with everyone browsing happily around the booths that were selling all manner of battery operated paraphernalia. I particularly enjoyed the way in which the matronly, latex clad, sales assistants were holding up various items and giving little demonstrations in much the same way that sales assistants demonstrate unnecessary kitchen gadgets at those Ideal Home shows. Strangely enough, my favourite item in the whole show was in fact an unnecessary kitchen gadget - a little metal thing that shaped fried eggs into men’s rude parts which you could probably use as a cookie cutter too, so maybe a very handy item after all.
But a word if I may about the clothing on sale, which I have to say was both extremely expensive (over 1,000 kronor for a nurse’s dressing up costume) while being atrociously cheap at the same time. Now I realise that the aim may well be to look cheap but does everything have to be nylon? The problem with a nylon body suit is that there’s a distinct possibility it could cause a very nasty infection in parts that are vital for any form of conjugals. Even nastier still, I would worry that the slightest amount of friction would cause the whole thing to spontaneously combust. Which would give new meaning to being a red hot lover, I suppose.
So, as for the Fair Erotica - well, there’s a makeshift bar and a kiosk selling hot dogs, and live entertainment in the form of wholesome strippers so it might be a different, and certainly harmless, way to spend an evening with a few friends.
But, for my part, I don’t think I’ll be rushing back. If I want to spend my time jostling with rampaging women on a mission, I’ll be elbowing my way to the front of the queue for the opening of David Taylor’s shop.
Taylors and Jones, Hantverkargatan 12, 112 23 Stockholm, Tel 08 651 2910, www.taylors.se (Cash only on the first days of business until credit card facility in place)
Fair Erotica, Gamla Tryckeriet, Gustavslundsvagen 149B, Alvik, Stockholm, Tel 08 658 6028, www.fairerotica.nu, 3 Oct - 4 Nov 2007.