If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

So, dad arrived from the land of the French tonight. I met him at Liverpool Street, where he was laiden with magazines, clothes for the wedding and French ideas.

We went out to the Angel, our round-the-corner pub-cum-eaterie, ate too much and got to the point of ordering coffee.

‘I’ll have an espresso,’ dad told the waitress.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told him. ‘We don’t have anything that sophisticated,’ sneering at his mad French way of thinking. ‘I might be able to do you a filter coffee if you like.’

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 2nd, 2005 at 11:57 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.