THE ‘cheeky Nando’s’ is close to overtaking Britain’s other top cheeky pastimes, the cheeky fag and cheeky pint. But is your trip officially cheeky or are you living a lie?
Is it spontaneous?
A planned Nando’s is not a cheeky Nando’s. The correct level of cheekiness is achieved when the day’s plans did not include Nando’s in any way yet you find yourself there regardless, anticipating the unexpected gift of spicy chicken. Any teenage visit to Nando’s is automatically cheeky because they cannot afford to eat there.
Should you be doing something else?
Your Nando’s ascends to the next tier of cheekiness if being sneaked in when you should be somewhere else. Meant to be making a loft conversion watertight? Or resitting your GCSE English? Or at a close relative’s funeral? F**ked it off for half a chicken, hot, with chips and spicy rice? Cheeky. There will always be other funerals.
Is your squad there?
If you are not seated with at least one lad called Callum or Kieran or Kian or Kai, then your meal is appreciably less cheeky. Ideally, you’d have been on your way to leg day at the gym when a ‘cheeky Nando’s’ was suggested. The effect of the banter will be amplified by the unpremeditated Nando’s and the result will be up to 125 per cent cheekier.
Does your order have zero nutritional value?
Macho peas aren’t cheeky, corn on the cob isn’t cheeky, and chicken wraps definitely aren’t. Salad has zero cheek. If your meal isn’t at least a half chicken with peri peri fries, garlic bread and extra mac and cheese, washed down with an overpriced Sagres, then opportunities for cheek are being actively missed.
Have you posted it on socials?
Much like citybreaks and runs, if a cheeky Nando’s is not documented on Insta it did not happen. For added pop include GIFs and stickers, for example an animated fat, clucking chicken and an image of what you incorrectly believe is the Portuguese flag.
