Legends from our own lunchtimes

Friday, May 31, 2013

A Small Party

The change that everyone around us had almost believed was on the way did come, but it didn't bring sunshine, instead, to relieve the constant drizzle it brought the odd heavy shower as well.

Despite all of that, or perhaps because of it, tonight had been declared party night, and the happy coincidence that there was a birthday to celebrate did not go unnoticed either.

When most people talk of making a meal of "leftovers" they talk in terms of re-heating the remnants of a meal that had been prepared earlier.   Joel has an altogether different view of what that term means.   To him, "leftovers" are anything that has not been bought at the supermarket deli-counter by ten past nine in the morning.

When he was preparing his feast for the four of us this evening, I am convinced that someone had forgotten to tell him that the other two hundred people had sent their apologies.  There is no doubt that had a week to consume his art, we could have stretched it to that, but as has become our habit with them around, we simply made the best we could of the situation until  the time when sensible people would find themselves in bed, and then we kept going for much, much longer until we had made at least a sizeable dent in his offerings.

Eventually they retreated into the early morning, and we were left dazed and wondering whether we would ever need to eat again.


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