Almost all romantic relationships in Luton begin at 4pm, the official Courting Hour, and in George Street, the city’s heart. (I have touched upon certain courting rites peculiar to George Street in my notes elsewhere on Street Food.)If a man wishes to propose to a lady, he will formally pass her a bag of tiny crayfish pies called ‘fidgets’. If she eats a fidget from his fingers, she accepts his offer of betrothal. Once this has been witnessed by a third party - and small boys are always on hand to give witness upon payment of one dandiprat - the engagement is binding.
Much rejoicing will then take place, the banns will be called by the Town Crier, and a suitable nightclub or other place of worship will be procured for the wedding. The happy couple will then steal off for their prenuptial tryst in Wardown Park, tossing fidgets into the crowd en route. Unwed maidens always scramble to catch them.
Oh, many a tryst has been consummated with a fidget! I remember them from my youth with great affection. They are said to be aphrodisiac. Of course, I cannot comment upon that. Suffice to say that the local birth rate plummeted some nine months after the notorious fidget vendors’ strike of August 1951.
