Port out, starboard home Breakfast....

'....Return to your fortress, O prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you....' [Zechariah 9:12]

Jacks Fletch’s Back ;O)

There are few things in life that can exceed a really good Breakfast. It’s virtually impossible (if you exclude anything glorious in the morning!), to beat a fine full English breakfast served piping hot to your table, complimented by a good French blended coffee to ease your awakening. This whilst you relax and peruse your chosen daily rag, which in my case is The Guardian. Obviously this does mean wasting half the time filtering through the twaddle written by various dungaree wearing lesbian social workers, trying to convince me that the only way to save the planet is to purchase eco-friendly ice cube bags and bio-degradable wessel poisons, but nevertheless a worthy publication I mostly sympathies with (who are you calling a Liberal Hippy! ;o) )

I mention breakfast, for last week while I was sitting down trying to enjoy a very mediocre, luke warm offering , accompanied by coffee that had been sitting on a hot plate just maybe an hour or four past it's best, in a hotel I’ve been spending a lot of time at recently (if you ever want to stay in Chichester I can recommend it, just not the sausages), when my attention was drawn abruptly away from a very interesting article about the influence the El’Neno effect is apparently having on blind migratory badgers, by a sudden and quite disturbing raised voice.

For whilst I’d been distracted by stories of sightless carnivorous mustelids, two of the hotels older (and I’m being very nice here), residents had managed, unobserved by myself, to amble into the restaurant and seat themselves not twenty feet away from me. Twenty feet is the important facet of that last sentence, for it might seem like a rather large distance for one table to be sat away from another in a restaurant, but fortunately for me, it appeared both the ‘olds’ were profoundly deaf! This indeed was opportune, for I do take pleasure in people watching and in this case people listening, and what followed was one of the most amusing conversations I’ve ever had the privilege to overhear.

So I’ll set the scene. The ‘olds’, husband and wife, frail, mid to late seventies, very well dressed, I mean who wears a cravat to breakfast? (I was just impressed he’d managed to tie it!), start to have a loud but very well spoken conversation about their plans for the day ahead (this mostly involved preparation for his various naps!). Now forget if you can that our ‘olds’ are constantly talking/shouting down to the waiting staff in that middle class fashion only gained by attending the right prep. school, what existed was something of a communication problem with the hotel staff. The two very efficient waitresses, as is so much the apparent need these days were of Eastern European nationality, but even so perfectly capable of probably better English than myself. Unfortunately what they lacked was just those slight nuances of understanding to fully comprehend the English landed gentry.

So that’s the scene, here’s the act. A single sentence that confirmed my every suspicion I’d ever had about the toffs in our society and the solitary reason why I now believe every member of the House of Lords should be taken out and shot! A moment of complete humiliation for those effected and of total embarrassment for the rest of us present, on par with witnessing English football hooligans running riot.

Oldman shouting at wife – “I suppose we have to put up with these young foreign girls these days because all ours own girls are at University!”

Laugh, I couldn’t help myself, it was carnage, there was bacon everywhere… Fortunately the 'olds' didn’t hear me…:o)

Hope you're all cool out there in Cyberland... :O)

Ciao Ciao
Confused From Cambridge
I Blog There4 I Am