January 6th 2018

Today I went on a diet at lunch and then forgot about it by dinner. Most Saturday mornings Alice and I walk to the cafe down the road for breakfast, (a bacon roll AND a coffee all for £1.99). We popped into Tesco on the way home to pick something up for lunch later on, and because of the salty, fatty breakfast I’d just had, I decided that I wanted to have a salad for lunch.

The problem is that I don’t like salad. So we walked around Tesco empty-handed for literally half an hour trying to find something that fell in the overlap of the venn diagram between “things that are healthy” and “things that I actually want to eat”. The problem is that that Venn diagram doesn’t really overlap. So it’s more just like two circles next to each other, really.

In the end, we settled on ‘quorn fajita salad’. Which is like fajitas, except it has fake chicken and salad leaves. So really it’s nothing like fajitas.


It even had some avocado in it.

So yeah, that ‘healthy eating’ lifestyle lasted for about four hours until we ordered a curry at 7 o’clock. Well, saying that, the curry took three hours to arrive after we’d ordered it, so really the diet lasted for seven hours.

We ordered it at 7pm, it hadn’t arrived by 8:30 so we went to go get it, and had to wait at the curry house until 9:40 for it to be ready, and then it was gone 10 by the time we were actually eating it. No curry is worth a three hour wait.

When we were stood around waiting to collect it, I did something completely out of character: I kicked off.

To be fair, they were really busy. We could see that. I didn’t mind that the food was taking a while. That’s not where I took umbridge. I worked at a restaurant for six years, I can empathise with the kind of night they were having: where everything goes wrong and the orders won’t stop coming. Apparently their sister restaurant in the next town over was closed, so they were basically getting double orders all night. We were queued behind seven or eight people all waiting to collect their orders. That’s all fine, I can understand that.

But where I drew the line was when one guy came in off the street, placed a new order, and left with his curry before me. I’d been in the store for half an hour already when he came in and placed his order. And then he walked out with his food twenty minutes before I did. And I’d ordered it an hour before I actually got there.

That’s when I kicked off and pulled the ‘can I speak to the manager card’.

I gave it some spiel about how I didn’t feel valued as a customer if they were going to play favourites and give orders out of sequence, and he gave some spiel about how mine was a larger order (fatshaming fuck) and he wanted to ensure everything was cooked to a high standard (it was, to be fair) and then he offered me a bottle of wine, and I walked out with three.

“Please get the gentleman a bottle of wine,” he said to his colleague. “Would you like red, white or rose?”

“I’ll take one of each,” I said. And I walked out with my curry and three bottles of wine.

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Until tomorrow, all I wanted was a lamb rogan josh.




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