Posts Tagged ‘restaurant’

3rd Law Part 19 – lowlife, postmen and Winking Owls

Friday, March 8th, 2013

Sat in reception of Auto Windscreens listening to some funky music. At first I thought hmm, can they turn this loud stuff off but now I’ve changed my mind. It’s quite uplifting.

I’m here because some lowlife smashed one of the rear windows of the Jeep. The lowlife didn’t get in because they hadn’t bargained for the fact that the knob you use to unlock the door from the inside was broken on that door. I’ve never bothered getting it replaced because it doesn’t stop us from locking and unlocking the car. Hah.

We called the cops who came out straight away fair play.  Apparently there has been a spate of such break-ins in town. They know who is doing it. A bunch of junkies looking for something to steal and sell for peanuts to buy themselves a couple of fixes. Been in and out of prison. There was no evidence onsite at our house to say who it was so I guess the forces of law and order will have to wait until the next incident to try and nab em.

We have beefed up our perimeter defences. I won’t tell you what we’ve done – need to know basis. I’d have to kill you. You can be assured however that it doesn’t involve razorwire or vicious killer dogs patrolling between the fences and trained to attack silently and ask questions after. The mind races away here. Picture the scene.

Dog pounces, forces you to the ground by clamping its huge teeth round your throat, shakes its head to rough you up a little and when it thinks it’s broken your resistance, lets go. It then proceeds to interrogate you in a very business-like manner, enquiring as to the purpose of your intrusion into the Davies estates.

Upon hearing that you are the postman and checking out your ID it licks the blood that has started to flow from the wounds in your neck, backs off and lets you know you are ok to proceed.

No that isn’t what we have done.

We interrupt the flow of this story to say btw it’s Radio 1 playing. Not my thing. I’m not in the right demographic.

Coming back to the security stuff, had the postman had his black and white cat with him in the van it would have scared it witless (words modified to preserve the Universal Classification of this work should it ever get to being assessed by the British Board Of Film or whoever does these things these days.

I assume the postman must have been on foot and without cat. It isn’t practical to take your cat with you on a round if you are on foot as they tend to wander off in search of mice or butterflies (other insects are available).

I’m not a cat person. Not a dog person really either. I like the concept of owning a dog. The faithful retainer trotting alongside you obediently, sitting at your feet in the pub gratefully catching the odd cheese and onion crisp thrown for its benefit. I like all that. What I don’t like is the fact that you have to look after it.

Also what do you do with the dog when you go on holiday?

Puts the mockers on that skiing trip or the villa in Mustique doesn’t it? I guess one could leave it with the gardener or the estate manager, or the mother in law though she wouldn’t be much use. Complains too much. Would drive the dog up the wall. It would attempt to escape and try and find you which is going to be difficult if you are in Mustique though marginally easier if skiing, as long as it isn’t in Canada or somewhere like that.

In fact I haven’t been skiing for many years. Not since Bob Madge suggested we popped up to Aviemore in 1984 or 1985. This was a Thursday and after work on Friday afternoon we were headed northbound with someone else whose name temporarily escapes me but which I will let you know if I remember. George it was I think. So we set off on Friday afternoon for the mobile home we had rented in Aviemore. It is a long way from Lincoln and we got there quite late and were starving.

We had been recommended to go to the Winking Owl to eat but we couldn’t find it so ended up having some poxy pub meal which was ok but not as good as we would have had had it been the Winking Owl, apparently. The ironic thing was that as soon as we had eaten and moved on to the next pub the next pub turned out to be, the Winking Owl of course!!

The next day we spent skiing. The one thing I have refrained from mentioning is that I broke my leg skiing at the age of 13 on a school trip to Sapada in the Italian Dolomites. The consequence of this breakage is that my right leg has never quite been as strong as the left. Normally it doesn’t matter but on that day skiing in Aviemore I found that it was weakening and I was beginning to fall even more than normal. I figured that the safest thing to do was get on the drag lift to the top of the mountain and take the chairlift to the bottom. On the way up someone had to sit next to me because I kept drifting off to the right, my left leg now being muscularly dominant.

When we got to the top we found that the chairlift had been closed due to high winds! Nightmare! The only thing I could do was ski down to the bottom. At this point we must remember from my experience on the drag lift that I could easily go to the right but not to the left! So in attempting to ski down the mountain I found that I could zig but not zag. I ended up having to zig, fall over, turn around on my backside (being ever mindful of that “U”), stand up and zig again. This took me ages and was my last skiing experience apart from a short afternoon on holiday in the French Alps.

Radio 1 is getting a bit irritating btw. I don’t mind the music but the mindless inane rubbish between songs is hard going. Bring back Radio2 or Radio4, though not The Archers. I can’t stand The Archers.

At this point I’m going to change the direction of the conversation because it is in danger of getting too negative. I’m going to take us back in time again to another restaurant we were looking for. This one, whose name is definitely lost in the mists of time, was on the seafront in Haifa. We were in Tel Aviv on business, staying at the Intercontinental Hotel on the beach. Very nice.

The concierge had recommended the restaurant and said it was just outside on the promenade. Getting there all we could find was a closed kiosk. Definitely not the posh restaurant. Looking around us there was nothing in sight. Hmm.

Next thing we know is that an ice cream van comes along, music blaring. I flagged him down and the guy inside, thinking he had a sale, eagerly hopped up to serve us. Unfortunately for him I only wanted to ask where the eatery was.

He was a helpful enough chap and pointed to a spot a couple of miles along the promenade. I then cheekily asked if he wouldn’t mind giving us a lift. Glint in eye etc. No problem.

We piled in and had the surreal experience of riding along the Tel Aviv seafront in the back of an ice cream van. It wasn’t a particularly posh one but hey…

After a short while a kid ran out for an ice cream and we pulled over – right in front of the restaurant. Out we got, thanked him and went in only to find it was fully booked! You lose some you draw some 🙂

How about this – the car is ready. I’m off. Ciao.

3rd Law part 18 here

3rd Law part 20 here

Fat woman in hotel restaurant

Tuesday, February 17th, 2009

There was heavy breathing
In the lift
Going down
For breakfast.
She was texting
And it seemed to me
The effort was
Making her breathless.
It came as a surprise
To see her on cereals
But then she appeared
In the line
For the full English buffet,
Urging her
Equally sizeable
Male companion
To take more
And then I saw her go
For a second helping,
A large one.
I walked to my meeting.