Better Offer?

The things I do – whilst waiting for a better offer!


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“What A Weekend! – Part 4”


Here we are at part 4 and I have only just reached Friday night!

The evening was for three of us, Chef, The Kid and myself, a continuation of the previous twenty four hours.  Not only was Friday the corporate day of sailing for Chef, but it was also his birthday.  And his lovely wife, Nursey, had baked him a rather nice chocolate cake which had been carefully transported all the way to Port Solent on Thursday evening, had survived a night on board with eight men and most of a days sailing.

The idea was to eat the cake by way of celebrating Chef’s birthday on the boat on the way back from the racing to the pontoon as we slowly negotiated the channel.  However, as the racing was cut short by lack of wind, we had no alternative but to eat the cake slightly earlier than expected.

And Friday evening was the time for Chef, The Kid and myself to regale all our sailing stories to our respective other halves and anyone else who would listen!  But we were too tired.  Instead we all gathered at The Bob’s, took an age to decide on what curry to order and then just sat drinking ice cold long drinks!

Several minutes later, the curry duly turned up at the door.  Not by itself, it was delivered by a young man who obviously had nothing better to do on a Friday evening!  It was quickly ushered into the house and taken to the table were it was to be ceremoniously devoured.

There was quite a collection of assorted dishes.  Eight of us ordered something and with the exception of the rice, nothing was duplicated.  The establishment from which the feast had been purchased had included a free bottle of the red stuff with the delivery.  However, previous orders have shown this to be fit only for adding to cooking and it is not recommended that it be consumed at any time during the evening as a drink.

Not even if the regular red stuff has run out!

They also included some complimentary pappadoms, however, bearing in mind there were eight of us, I’m not sure that the two pappadoms supplied were really sufficient.  Never mind, it was the thought that counted.

So there we were, tucking in like there was no tomorrow.  Seven of us diving into the various dishes, sampling each others along the way.

Wait a minute, I hear you say, weren’t there eight of you?

There most certainly were, but for some reason, which I don’t recall, Tiny Dancer didn’t bring her container of curry to the table.  Oh, she ate with us, but she served hers up in the kitchen.

I think the reasoning behind this was because she didn’t want to eat the whole curry that night and wanted to save some of it for the next day.  She is, after all, a tiny dancer and probably finds one portion far too much.  Unlike the rest of us!  Although to be perfectly fair, Chef and Nursey shared a curry, and I only ordered a starter sized dish as I wasn’t really hungry – well I had been fed really well earlier in the day with the bacon rolls, packed lunch and chocolate cake.  But maybe I was still put off by the picture of that cleavage!

Anyway, it soon became apparent that Tiny Dancer had managed to consume the entire portion and hadn’t left any for the next day.  She was just saving space on the table!

Chef, The Kid and I were feeling decidedly wobbly, which I assure you had nothing to do with the long cool drinks we were having.  The three of us were still experiencing the effects of having been at sea all day.  None of us could work out how regular sailors keep their balance when on dry land.  Maybe they keep themselves plied with rum and therefore never know they are ashore.  We had only spent about six hours sailing, and even then there was so little wind the boat was hardly rocking.  But try as we may, we found it very hard to not feel like the room was swaying.

None of the ladies present believed a single word of it, and all blamed the drinks, but as I said earlier, the three of us were very tired and in fact we were too tired to drink and so we curtailed the evening.  Chef, being at home, only had to negotiate the stairs.  The Kid, being the next door neighbour, only had to wander through the missing fence panel and make his way up his stairs.

I, on the other hand, had a mile to walk, and with the pavement swaying just like the dining room had been earlier, it felt more like a mile and a half walk.

Luckily, She Who Must Be Obeyed was on hand to take my arm and steer me in the right direction!