On my way to dinner tonight, at the Chinese place across the main street, I gave some thought to what I was going to order. I was in the mood for the five pound special (sweet and sour chicken with fried rice, chicken sweetcorn soup and a can of something fizzy) but it was damn cold and I fancied some hot jasmine tea instead.
I didn’t want to make a fuss as I think I’m becoming a bit of a favoured customer there. I noticed that the food takes a bit longer to come when I order now and, unless I’m imagining it, tastes an awful lot better. That kind of relationship with a local restaurant I don’t want to mess up!
I decided that I’d get the five pound special and then just make a pot of green tea for myself when I got home.
So I got there and made my order.
‘With Chinese Tea?’ the lady behind the counter asked.
I nodded and wondered how she’d managed to read my mind.
The fact that the lady then clipped her nails (at least I think that’s what that noise was) while I ate my five pound special didn’t make the evening any less special for me.
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