It’s obviously Friday afternoon, I’ve just had to use four attempts before managing to add a column to a table.
In a short while I’ll be off, off to Bergen in fact. Janne is – was it 30, dear? – next week, so Martin and I are going for a spot of celebration. We come bringing haggis. And some other stuff.
And so I’ll get to see my “nephew” again for the first time in, oh, over a year. Not being a very good aunt, am I?
So. Need to go catch a train. Thing is, I’ve just realised that I’m starving, so I need to eat something. Preferably before I get to Bergen, which won’t be for another 3-4 hours.
Of course, we could eat at Pizza Hut at the airport. Judging from when Linda and I ate there this summer, it’s an entertaining place. We almost chocked on our food when the people at the table next to us started quarreling about who was going to eat the last pizza slice. Not as in they all wanted it, but as in none of them wanted it. For heaven’s sake, they were four people (mother, father and two teenage daughters) and they’d managed less than one standard size pizza between them. We left one slice and a couple of slices of garlic bread, but there were only two of us and we’d had extra garlic bread because they were out of something or other. As I said, we almost choked. We were already giggling because the people at the table on the other side were being very weird too. Shortly after I decided we had to leave or I’d openly start laughing and pointing my finger at people, which would be rude. So far I think we’d managed to give the impression that we were talking about something very funny. Which we were, of course, but something other than our fellow guests, I mean.
Rambling now. Will stop.
Am hungry.
Voice in my head: Vonda Shepard – I Only Want to be With You