Legends from our own lunchtimes

Friday, June 07, 2013

The pie or the fish?
London


By this morning, my eyes had begun to focus in the manner I had become accustomed to before the flogging they received at the hands of the Ophthalmologist yesterday, and although the sky was nowhere near as blue as it was while we were sitting in the crowded hospital waiting room, the sun did it's best to smile on us as we bounced down towards the City itself.

It was a combination of drop-addled vision and relief yesterday that caused us to exit the hospital's care without giving a thought as to whether there was any actual procedure to let them know we were on our way, and when we returned today to confess and to thank the A&E staff for their help we were greeted with bemusement.   Friendly, grateful bemusement, but bemusement none the less.

Bemusement is also the best way of describing our shopping experience at Primark, the monster chain of clothing discounters that is being blamed for single handedly bringing down all sorts of leading clothing brands in Australia.   The wait in this monster store to enter a changing room to try on a three pound pair of swimmers was barely a few hours less than the wait to see a specialist in the free hospital system, yet people seem to do that quite happily and then queue for almost as long again for the privilege of handing over money to one of dozens of cashiers who themselves had the demeanour of those disgruntled with waiting for hours to see a doctor.  

We had to do it though, buy some togs, in case we feel like having a swim in Icleand.    We didn't in Siberia, and have never regretted that, but we had the choice there and chose not to.   

Tomorrow evening we will have to make that choice I suppose, but today, the only one we had to make was whether to have the fish or the pie at lunch.   

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