Sunday 24 February 2013

Experts at avoiding eye contact with fellow diners



So we appear to have forgotten what 'grocery shopping' is and had to fill the hole with a couple of tapas at our local authentic Spanish restaurant. Wonderful food has left us feeling very un-bikini-ready, however we were joined by diners with only one thing on their minds: meat. And lots of it. Had yet another glorious evening of Mother cautiously whispering a run-down on the antics from the table behind me. I must add here that such transfer of information like this has got us into trouble before (sniggering from us recognised by tempered couple and suddenly confronted by angry lady demanding to know what on earth was so funny).

As the evening progressed, Mother narrated the adventures of 'The Slobbery Brits', much to my amusement. Only one word could possibly do to politely describe the female: over-fed. Mother continued to gasp in horror as an enormous platter of meats arrived and the couple physically darted their bodies towards the food as if they had been starved of nutrition for months (probably not the case). To describe this couple accurately, I must tell you that the male addressed the female as 'mate' ( however romantic aquaintances confirmed later in the evening) from behind his iPad that sat four inches from the now half demolished table of pork chops, steaks, ribs, kangaroo (yes, really) and other delightfully frangranced carcuses.

All was not lost when suddenly a traditional Spanish band danced in with their guitars and banjos and maraccas to serenade the diners. Mother enjoyed this very much. Camera out, hips wiggling, lips giggling and almost tried it on with one of them as apparently "he looks just like Antonio Banderas, darling!!"

Sadly the entertainment didn't last long enough and our attention was forced back onto 'The Slobbery Brits'. Mother announces that she has been wondering what exactly the male is regurgitating every five minutes. Was it the bone from the steak or was it dentures? Hard to tell when his entire head was covered in brown goo.


We have yet to find an un-lobstered, clean, well-spoken Brit... Besides us, of course.

Charlotte-Elizabeth xoxo

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