*phone rings*
"You order Super Pizza?" shouts a gruff voice.
"Yes"
"We downstairs" hangs up.
I headed downstairs to find the delivery guy sitting in his car waiting for me. I had to go to his car to get the pizza!
So after they "lost" our order yesterday, Jim took an executive decision to wander down and pick up the pizzas ourselves.
Of course on the way we got distracted and ended up in the Pullman, our favourite pub in Folkestone, where we had two bottles of a delicious sweet wine in the beer garden (much to the confusion of the barman who was half ready to pour us our usual pints of Amstel). We then moved on to Wetherspoons (I refuse to call it the Samuel Peto!) where we had another bottle of wine and caught a glimpse of a bit of flesh (well if a guy is going to lean over a bar and have very low hanging jeans, what's a boy to do?).
We eventually stumbled to Super Pizza where they attempted to overcharge us by a few pence. Whilst I'd just pay that, as I'll do anything to avoid a fuss, Jim has a keen sense of principle and a small awkward moment occurred where he attempted to explain how we were being overcharged and it ended only when a manager intervened and corrected the error. I totally understand why Jim does what he does, but God those sort of altercations are my worst nightmare.
We've got two house guests at the moment, Lenny and Bart. They are my brother George's rats and they're actually rather cute. And there's a new Celebrity Big Brother on the telly! Doesn't get much better than that!
Jim's not been well again recently which is playing on my mind, and works all a bit of a dull SSDD. Otherwise I'm not doing so bad... how are you, Dear Constant Reader?
If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist
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