Fresh, no, that’s the wrong word. Carrying on (that’s better) from Friday night’s football evening at Tan and Angie’s which ended early Saturday morning, and then a long lunch later on Saturday, I was hoping Sunday would be a nice quiet day at Le Brin until I was updated on my social diary for the weekend – we were due at Sam’s for lunch with Sarah, a friend from Tourrettes. Lucky boy! I was to have lunch with three lovely ladies.
Quick shower, grab a few bottles of wine and some champers and we were off. Still not 100% from the early part of the weekend I nevertheless looked forward to an afternoon at Sam’s. She’s an ex BA first class air stewardess (trolley dolly to you and me) and things are always ‘just so’ when she entertains - beautiful table setting, candelabras, linen napkins, great music and the best crystal, but I knew things had gone downhill a bit when we arrived and Sam was still in her bedroom slippers and said she’d just cleared up the rat’s droppings from the terrace!
Still, the champagne was ok despite being served in different glasses, three of which weren’t crystal. Champers just doesn’t taste the same when it’s served in water tumblers.
The starter of deep fried camembert was delicious but the tone was set for the rest of the meal when Sam served the accompanying salad in an Ikea plant pot and then said we needed to lick clean our knives and forks as one set had to do us for the full meal. I was glad fish wasn’t on the menu!
After a ‘short’ interlude caused by the fact that Sam had forgotten to put the potatoes on (thank goodness we had taken cooked chickens), we had roast chicken and veggies followed by cheese and a raspberry sort of ice-creamy dessert and I have to say that eating ice cream with a chicken-tasting fork is not that great.
The meal was also taken a bit further down-market due to the fact that we were given bits of toilet roll instead of napkins, the electric pepper mill did not have any batteries in it and when coffee was served, there was more in the saucer than in the cup. Methinks Sam is training to get back to being a stewardess – with Ryanair! I reckon she’ll make it with distinction.
Still the meal was forgotten when we started reviewing last week’s photos taken at Aydin’s party, some of which were highly embarrassing especially those where I appeared in a selection of female clothes and the ones of ‘ladies’ fighting for the affections of the three 22 year old boys from Florida! Hey, it’s all part of the varied and alternative lifestyle out here in the sticks.
The afternoon was then interrupted when a vicar cycled past on the main road, presumably returning home after holding a service at the nearby church, and the three so-called sophisticated ladies hung out of the window cat calling and whistling at the poor guy (see picture).
And they say us guys are badly behaved when we’ve had a drink.