At some point, I demanded, nay expected to go and have a classic American Burger, my only criteria being that I’d like something to see me through the day, instead it kept me full for two whole days. To begin with though you have to start off with the ordeal that is the choice, we don’t get that in England, you pick your meal and you eat it. The unwritten rules clearly state that you may ask for something to be taken off your meal but that is all.
Imagine my surprise when Christina asks for half the stuff to be taken off hers and a lot more stuff be added, thus changing the entire burger to something else not actually on the menu. What insanity is this? Then I was assailed from all angles with choice: different sides, extra stuff, desserts, how I liked things done. I was ready for the food after that trial.
When I was asked if I wanted Jo Jos, I had to query what they actually were, then immediately fall back on the old apology, “sorry, I’m English”, which in all fairness C. got in there first. Quite a few times. Sometimes a bit to quickly. I hasten to add I didn’t ask what they were Read the rest of this entry »