The Way It Looks
Entry posted by caldrail
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So much for drizzle. We had a right downpour yesterday afternoon. The weather is the same today, a grey day with a sense of dampness in the air. Certainly there's some great piles of darker cloud in the vicinity threatening to make my day wetter than planned, so my trip to the supermarket is starting to look risky. Hey, that's life in the wilds of Darkest Wiltshire.
I find the habits of Swindoners a little odd when confronted with changes in weather. We seem to be a few days behind, continuing to wear clothes more suited for sunny days and then adopting more rain-worthy apparel when the sun returns, no doubt having realised at last that occaisionally we might get wet. Umbrellas appear in sudden tides of fashion for a day or two. Those in hoodies get soaked by rain or sweat either way, because they do so love their anonymity. As for me I just get soaked because I didn't bother looking at the weather report.
A Tale Of Two Burgers
Thursday night and my rations have not contained the hunger I feel. I could save money and indulge in another dry sandwich.... No, I can't face another slab of foam rubber and yeast. This does mean spending some money of course, but there's only so much bread and water you can consume before you realise you've become a prisoner of your finances. So off I trot, to the takeaway across the road.
The turkish lads are, as always, all smiles. They do love a good customer. Anyhow I ordered my cheeseburger and with his usual display of turkish service, he asked me if I wanted cheese with that. Yes. Yes I do. I like cheese on my cheeseburgers. This isn't the first time he's done this and I suspect it won't be the last. With a smiling apology he handed me my seriously unhealthy but seductive snack and away I went happy as larry. Yum... Good burger this...
Friday night and I face the same problem. Only this time my bread is twenty four hours drier. Another burger? Okay, just this once. I resolved to buy the bottom bargain basment model, the one with a slab of processed cow and other stuff in a toasted bun. No sauce, salad, or cheese. This evening I will take my burger straight. I am not afraid.
The turkish lad flipped the processed cow over on his hotplate and asked me if I wanted anything on my burger. No. No I don't. Just an ordinary burger in an ordinary bun for a low low price special offer. Somehow he didn't really understand what the problem was in piling food into a small carton with a shovel, but there you go. I paid my cash, and waited for the meal to finsih its chemical reaction and become halfway edible.
He was distracted by more customers arriving. A jolly bunch, made sociable by copious alcholic drinks and luckily they managed to save one of their merry group from altering his nose on the floor. So I was served by another turkish lad. They all look the same. They really do. Is there a cloning facility in Istanbul? Even the chap who serves kebabs down the hill, a young turk, claims there are too many turks. But I digress. The youngster started assembling my meal and he too looked confused by the stark bareness of merely a burger in a bun.
"You want something on this?" He pleaded with me desperately to improve the culinary appeal and creative artistry of my intended snack. "Salad? Cheese?"
Oh go on then. Put some stupid cheese on it. He beamed with delight and handed me my cheeseburger, obtained legally at a 20p discount. I strolled home, negotiated the drunks and drivers, and set about polishing off my meal. Yum...Great burger this...
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