One thing I do enjoy doing when eating out is people watching.
Each morning here, there has been another couple, French, probably in their thirties, whom we have particularly noticed. This is because, while he takes himself off to a table of his choice, she descends on the self-service area, like a one-woman herd of locusts, helping herself to copious amounts of anything and everything on offer, piling oranges into the juicer and then proceeding to fry eggs and bacon on the grill plate. Her preparations are punctuated by questions to her husband, presumably about how he likes his eggs and would he like two or three kilos of bacon. Eventually, she sits down and the next several minutes are punctuated by the two of them leaping up for second helpings. This morning's meal was disturbed by the sound of her stirring her yogurt. How does one make this sound like the revving up of an automatic drill?
Breakfast finished, she slung a large bag over her shoulder and, on her way out, stopped briefly to sweep something into the bag before leaving the room with a sweet 'Bonjour' to the receptionist as she passed. He, meanwhile, contented himself with grabbing something to stuff into his pockets as he left a few seconds later.
And to add insult to injury, they are both as thin as rakes!
Life in north east England (yes, we've moved!) with an eccentric Welshman and a small white dog that thinks he's a Rottweiler.
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2 comments:
Thin as rakes? I hate them and I don't even know them.
Me too, Dale. :)
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