amused"Chicken bits onna skewer," said the bloke behind the counter. "Three dollars."
"That don't sound very nice."
"Everybody loves them! Or how about a sausage sandwich?" said Wellington's version of Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler as he tried to hurry her up. "What about Eggan Bacon onna roll?"
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
CMOT seemed to suffer some sort of internal struggle, and lost. He had to up-sell. "How about a drink?"
The lady studied the board -- a board that listed just Tea, Coffee, Cappuccino, Coke, Solo -- for EVER, then she asked "What's cap-pack-eye-no?"
"Cappuccino," said CMOT Dibbler.
"There's no 'haitch' in it!" observed the lady. I considered strangling her with my empty and hunger-ravaged intestines for a) making me wait for lunch, b) killing the English Language, and c) General Ignorance.
"It's Italian," said CMOT.
"Oh, I don't want that foreign muck. Gimme a cup of tea." She took several years to pay for her lunch; paid not in notes or $1 or $2 coins like a normal person, but in small pieces of silver schrappnel the largest of which were four 50c coins.
I know this BECAUSE I COUNTED THEM, all the while thinking "please hurry up and go away," and wishing for some sort of trapdoor to open up under her. I finally bought my own steak and onion sandwich, and washed it down with a cup of tea, but it barely touched the sides on the way down and left me with a general feeling of having eaten but still hungry. It took some time for the feeding frenzy hormones to kick in and tell my brain I'd eaten, and until then I had to resist the temptation of buying a sausage sandwhich.
And I did resist! I Am Good!
