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Sunday, 29 April 2012

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"First of all my swimming pool is closed for the day so I missed my morning swim"

Good God, man, surely that's your own fault? The pool does indeed need to be out of bounds while the butler gives it a scrape and a hose down, but couldn't you have remembered to ask him to do it when you were away? Failing that, you could bite the bullet and call in at one of those public pools that some councils still run.

It's so difficult to get the staff these days, 'W'!

If he's a Cardinal you can be pretty confident that he's really a Mick, not a Jock.

I asked for a "black coffee" at a coffee stall recently and was instructed that I had to be more specific. So I asked for a Blue Mountain. Turned out that that wasn't what they meant.

Sorry, DM, I'm not up on the finer points of the Roman hierarchy - bit like you and coffee, I suppose.

Nice one about ordering coffee.

A couple of years ago I was on a train to work which broke down. General consternation as stressed commuters phoned the office, and then settled down to watch the rain pissing down outside. Much later, we were kicked off at some tiny station without any shelter, and there was bad-tempered mayhem as we queued in the rain to get off the wind-swept platform. Some set off looking for taxis, the rest of us crammed into a tiny "refreshment room". Shoulder to shoulder, dripping wet and cold, we were desperate for some caffeine. There was one old dear taking our orders at the till, very slowly, and making sure (as she had doubtless been taught to do) that all the coffee options were spelled out to each desperate customer.

The man in front of me was a city-gent type with a suit that was soaked through and a disintegrating Financial Times. When at last he arrived at the counter he said in a loud voice

"Coffee. Large. If you please!".

Then, before the old duck could reply, he continued, but with more menace,

"And no, I don't want chocolate fucking sprinkles!"

'The commuters are revolting!'

Not a Jock but certainly a joke.

How could anyone snarl at a Czech waitress? Or indeed Latvian, Estonian Lithuanian or Polish.

Quite right, Pat, and it was just an exam[ple of my 'bluff and bluster' style. I could never really snarl at those delightful east European girls who are all drop dead gorgeous as well as being very efficient and friendly.

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