Would you LIKE any desserts today?

Myself and the Other Half went out for lunch today. We spent last night out on the town with our respective friends (in which the barman at the Swan outdid the barman at the Black Horse's pentagram in the Guinness top by presenting the Other Half with a pint sporting the anarchy symbol), and he played footie this morning so we agreed that a great big roast dinner was just what the doctor ordered. We chose a nice pub on the outskirts of town, arriving at around twelve thirty. As soon as we were inside, things took a turn for the weird. It took us five minutes to be seated, mainly because the girl who showed us to our table was so lethargic that I suspected she might actually have been nodding out on smack. Honestly, it was embarrassing - at one point I found myself in an odd sort of shuffle on the stairs for fear that I might overtake her, so ponderous was her progress. We sat down and looked at our menus among the sort of cacophony that suggested feeding time at the zoo. Doesn't anyone just talk any more? The volume was so loud that we had no choice but to raise our voices in order to be heard, so the whole meal was spent bellowing at each other in a comedy manner. Our waitress, sorry, server, was master of stating the bleeding obvious, and also of the entirely superfluous question..."Can I get you any main courses today?"..no thanks, we're just browsing...."Can I clear those plates for you now?"...um, no thanks, we'd rather sit and look at dirty plates, if that's ok with you? Her pinnacle of ridiculousness came when I was paying the bill with my card. She put the transaction through the till, and placed a pen on the desk. Unable to help herself, she helpfully advised that "there's a pen". I bit the insides of my cheeks very hard indeed, and the Other Half had to leg it. I'm all for the improvement of the service industry, but surely there are limits? Oh dear, I've turned into my mother.

In other news, the Ex remains a complete twat. I could treat you all to a futile, angry rant about the latest lack of reason and understanding, but frankly it bores me so I'll spare you. If I ever get my hands on a chainsaw, however, you can read about it in the popular press.

Oh, and hon? That gravy did go down my front. I was just too ashamed to admit it.