The British person's guide to making a complaint

DO you sometimes need to make a complaint but hate direct conflict like most British people? Here’s how to do it in a pathetic, passive-aggressive way.

Moan at your partner instead

If the food at a restaurant is terrible, the likelihood of a British person making a complaint is slim. Instead, smile broadly at the waiter and claim everything was wonderful, then whinge about it to your partner on the way home and for the next seven months.

Write something horribly vindictive on TripAdvisor

Rather than tell staff at a B&B there was a hair in the soap dish, as a Briton you should wait until you’re home and write a rant on TripAdvisor calling it a ‘dangerous, germ-infested hell-hole’. If your OTT complaint gets them shut down, it’s simply taught them a valuable lesson about customer service.

Call environmental health

Are your neighbours playing their music a bit loud? Don’t tell them it’s annoying and give them a chance to change their ways. Instead start a long, bitter dispute by calling the council and the police, for good measure. They love dealing with stuff like that.

Wage a petty guerrilla war with your workplace

Do you end up doing quite a bit of unpaid overtime? Rather than speaking to your boss about it directly, ‘accidentally’ drop their favourite mug so it breaks. Ha. That showed them. Unless they just buy a new one.

Put the people next door under surveillance

In any dispute with the people next door, immediately gets loads of cheap CCTV cameras to ‘collect evidence’. They may be thoughtlessly blocking your drive occasionally, but you’re the winner because you’ve made them live in Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Posh wankers begin planning baffling skiing trips

AS winter approaches, posh tossers have begun planning their annual skiing trips involving weird things normal people never do.

Thousands of privileged Britons are booking holidays featuring punishing physical exercise, impenetrable terminology and excessive consumption of melted cheese.

Corporate lawyer Nathan Muir said: “To be honest I get more out of saying dramatic things like ‘Petra only bloody ended up on a black run by mistake!’ than the actual skiing.

“Sliding down a hill dressed as a toddler is okay, but for me it’s all about five-star private chalets and consuming food and beverages like goose and hot wine that were last popular in the 1800s.

“I also love our hearty ski conversations, such as ‘Thank god it was a gondola, not a button lift!’. Of course, you wouldn’t know what those are, which is kind of the point.”

Fellow skier Francesca Johnson said: “Anything less than a hot tub, champagne on tap and a personal butler to flick cashews at is unacceptable. And of course there’s the aprés-ski.

“I think it means ‘getting drunk with a Norwegian’, but it could just be something to say to make the riff-raff feel left out.”