I thought I was going to have a quiet night in last Friday. The most challenging decision I thought I would be facing would be whether to have a bath before watching the television and reading my book, or after watching the television and reading my book. It was going to be a tough decision. And then there was the toe nail dilemma, should I paint them bright pink or dark red? Hmm, decisions, decisions.
But then I received a telephone call from my friend who lives three train rides away, which is about an hour and a bit in the car. She was staying at my other friends house, who lives only ten minutes away in the car, as the nice mechanic man, also known as friends hubby, was fixing her car Saturday morning. "Are you free for a bite to eat?" she asked. The toe nail painting and Friday night telly could wait. A meal with my friends was far more important and rewarding.
A table for three was requested in a local French restaurant. The table we chose was outside, so we could watch the ambulance, police cars and young girls in very short dresses stagger by. (Not quite the French Riviera but at least it wasn't raining.) "I'm sure girls in Essex wear shorter dresses," was my friends observation. I think she could be right there. Or maybe we're getting older and dresses are looking shorter?
Anyway, I nearly had a fit when I scanned the menu and saw the prices of the main courses. Luckily the owner pointed out the three courses and a bottle of wine deal for £15.99. That was more like it!
I ordered the warm goats cheese salad, poached salmon with hollandaise sauce and garlic mushrooms, and apple sorbet to cleanse and freshen my palate. Delicious.
A friendly couple sat down near us and we started chatting to them about their grand children, great grand children and second marriage. The restaurant owner then joined us and free champagne and baileys with ice was appreciated. Not bad hey.
We ended up behind the bar at the end of the night, taking pictures, and I was pretending to serve invisible people. I'm not quite sure how that happened, but one thing was for sure, it was anything but a quiet night in. Don't you just love unexpected nights out. And free champagne.
I arrived home at an undignified hour, pretending to walk in a straight line, my mother complaining I reeked of garlic and alchohol "That's because I had a good night," was my reply, as I wobbled up the stairs to my bedroom.
Well, it beats staying in and painting your toe nails.
Table for three please.
With lots of wine.
What would you like to drink sir?