Friends

James and I are quite lucky in that we have a wide circle of good friends. We are in agreement however, that some friends are ideal for socialising with, some friends are better for confiding in, some friends for shopping with etc., - I don't think that I am explaining myself properly. Let me give you an example:

My good friend Emma from University has a lovely husband called Keith. Keith is a fine man, he is very confident, larger than life, articulate and authoritative, he has a great sense of humour. He is a fabulous company - but you would be best never to eat out with him.

Several years ago, we went out for a meal with Keith and Emma to a super local restaurant that was then known as 'Belair House'. Keith asked for mashed potato with his steak. The incredibly posh waiter said that as they had new potatoes that evening - mashed potato was off the menu. Keith insisted - 'Yes boil them, but peal them first, and then mash them'. The waiter insisted that the chef would refuse to 'defile' the potatoes by mashing them, Keith argued 'Shall I come and mash them myself?'

James and I looked at each other in horror - realising the kitchen staff would probably dip their private parts in the mashed potato, prior to sending it to our table. We really don't feel it is particularly wise to antagonise the staff in restaurants prior to the arrival of ones food. We have all worked part time in restaurants while we were students - haven't we? Ah, but Keith had a rich daddy, he has never had such menial work/life 'experience'. We didn't really feel the need to eat much of our supper on that occasion.

A couple of months later, Keith and Emma arrived at our home on a whim, and Keith announced that once again he had managed at short notice to book a table at Belair House - 'it being the only fit place to eat for miles' in his opinion.

On this occasion, Keith asked why there were no side plates on the table to accommodate our bread. The snooty waiter replied 'we do not use side plates' - to which Keith replied 'Well, we do' and insisted that we were all given side plates forth with.

Once again both James and I suddenly lost our appetite. Looks exchanged between us, as we simultaneously imagined the kitchen staff wiping their bottoms with our Dover Sole.

I am so glad that Belair House is under new management and has also changed its name. It is once again an option for a local evening out. Dining out with Keith is just not a good plan!