210905

Hi all,

I went off to the pub at lunch as one does sometimes. After figuring out that the Australian barmaid was speaking English I ordered a Directors. She is absolutely gorgeous and her small hands didn’t seem quite enough to encircle my receptacle and flatteringly she almost needed two hands to manage. I order a big burger and sit down to contemplate the uses all those little things could be put to. After a suitable calming down period I dare to stand up and get another beer, she suspects nothing apart from I might have a drink problem. I have cream chinos on today so I’d better not get too excited.

My burger arrives avec frites, seductively delivered with both hands. Half way through, Jesus appears in my burger but before I realise I’ve taken half his head off. My blood alcohol must be dangerously low and I order another Directors. I’ve just wiped out SW1’s equivalent of the Turin shroud and I better watch myself with this damn burger. A few more munches in and Elvis appears, it’s an old Elvis as he takes up quite a substantial portion. The Directors has taken over and I munch him whole thinking bring on Mother Teresa. Despite my newly acquired taste for holy images Mother T doesn’t materialise. I leave the frites, loveliness asks me if I don’t like them, I say they’re not healthy. She looks at my half empty third pint and absence of 12 oz burger, smiles and probably gets it for once. Just as she’s picking up the plate I notice Mother Teresa in a crinkle cut chip, too late I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to complete the set.

Have a pee and set off back to work. Bloody dribbles and cream trousers are not compatible and un-tuck my shirt to cover embarrassment.

CD 210905