Showing posts with label lunchtime adventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lunchtime adventures. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 April 2009

In which our heroine embarks on a leisurely luncheon ...


The weather was absolutely glorious today! (note that I use past tense *sigh*) So when a friend phoned and suggested we meet up for lunch I decided to make the most of it and hastily donned my summeriest summer dress, a pair of strappy sandals and my "I'm Not Nearly As Cool As These Shades Suggest" shades and started the leisurely stroll into town.

Isn't it amazing what a difference a few sun rays can make? The park looked lovely; the sky seemed bluer, the grass much greener and the dog poo not quite so brown. The children are still off school so there were plenty of the little tykes running around, screaming, crying, having tantrums and torturing small animals. I smiled smugly in all my wondrous childlessness at the harassed mothers and strolled on, ignoring their hate-filled stares.

On meeting my friend we decided it was too nice to sit in a dingy pub or air-conditioned restaurant and instead chose to buy sandwiches (Leicester cheese with slices of apple and beetroot chutney, for the sandwich aficionados out there) and then toddled down to the quay to eat them.


The quay tends to get busy when the weather is nice as all the pasty-faced office minions have the same idea as we did and scuttle out of their cubicles to sit in the sun and eat their lunch whilst reading pseudo-intellectual paperbacks and frantically avoiding eye contact with others. Sometimes it can be difficult to find an empty bench and you're forced to risk a nasty case of haemorrhoid's by making do with sitting on the large stone steps that lead up to the quayside. We were fortunate today though, we managed to intimidate an elderly couple into giving up their seats by loitering with intent and coughing often and loudly (Oh, don't give me that look! They're retired! They can sit on the quay any damned time they like! We were on a schedule!)

The sun beat down, and I was thrilled to see it turning my skin a pleasant golden-brown colour which I helpfully pointed out a number of times to my considerably paler friend, holding my arm next to hers by way of comparison, earning a few muttered curses for my trouble. We sat and ate our lunch, chatting aimlessly as girls will do, watching the water twinkle prettily as it caught the light, looking rather like Pru Jones in her recent nudie pic.

It was all most pleasant.

Until, out of the corner of my eye I noticed two figures hovering suspiciously. I hadn't paid them much attention to begin with because they were merely faceless shadows on the border of my line of vision, I assumed they were just standing around, admiring the day like all the other people. But they'd gradually edged closer and seemed to be staring over at us. Reluctantly I turned my head, unable to ignore them any longer. It was two Arab men. As soon as they caught my eye they started grinning, big wide toothy grins that made me feel anxious, and started walking over. I groaned inwardly, knowing it was too late for escape, and having nudged my friend we nervously awaited our fate.

They didn't speak much English but it soon became obvious that they wanted their photo taken. My friend, ever polite and helpful smiled and took their camera allowing them time to position themselves and pose. The first shot was a serious one, no smiles, nobody making bunny ears behind the others head, but in the second one they relaxed, the big grins were back and there was even a suggestion of "jazz-hands". My friend smiled and handed them back the camera as they thanked us effusively with much grinning and nodding of the heads. I hoped they would leave us then to finish our lunch in peace.

No such luck.

Not content with having their photo taken they then wanted to have their photo's taken with us!!! Left to my own devices I would have made my polite excuses and left at this stage, but my friend, still bitter about her lack of suntan, gave me an evil smile and indicated our willingness to help.

I lost count of how many photos were taken, but it was A LOT. Both wanted their picture taken individually with both me and my friend, then we had to pose on our own with an Arab either side, then we had to have pictures taken on our own with just one of the Arab gentlemen at a time. I dread to think what they wanted all those photos for. I dread even more to think what those photo's look like, because after the second shot I lost all trace of a sense of humour and was probably scowling into the camera like a ... well like a really scowly thing. Plus at one stage one of the gentlemen put his arm around me; now I'm quite a tactile person in general, with people I know well and am comfortable with, but I have a real issue with being touched by strangers and I could feel myself instantly tense and grimace.

Yep, I bet those photos are a real sight to behold.

In the end even my friend had, had enough and we politely but firmly bid them adieu and managed to finish our lunch in peace, watching irritably as they wandered down the quay, clearly pleased as punch with themselves and comparing photos.

So if you're surfing the net and happen to come across two Arab guys smugly claiming on FaceBook to have scored with a couple of English chicks, one of whom looks like she's just had a big stick shoved up her nethers and really isn't happy about it ... please disregard anything they might say.

Likewise, if you're trawling Ebay and you see an offer for two grumpy, English slave girls in exchange for a small herd of camels or something similarly alluring ... please don't try to buy me and please let me know a.s.a.p.

Thank you.


Ps: To the gentleman in the tie-dye shirt whom we saw on our way out of the quay ... if you weren't dancing like a loon but was in fact suffering some kind of seizure or epileptic episode, please accept my sincere apologies for not having called an ambulance. Rest assured, I did consider doing so, I just wasn't sure.