There are certainties in life. Day turns t night. Summer turns to winter. Bills arrive through the postbox. Nothing to watch on television. Luckily life isn't always that dull. Like yesterday. What a strange kind of evening.

To begin with the weather was fabulous. Another very warm day requiring liberal use of electric fans and cold drinks from the refridgerator. Despite this, the weathermen urged caution, because as the wise man knows, your typical briton has a memory span of three days and can't remember what the weather was before that. I glanced out the front window and beheld a bank of ugly dark clouds hanging almost motionless above Swindon.

From the back of the house a different vista appeared. The hazy sky was almost clear of any cloud whatsoever. Bright sunlight warmed the scene, and also sparkled off the rain that fell from the edge of the raincloud. Rainfall is usually a horrible experience. This was positively pleasant. You know what? Stuff the budget. I'm off for a takeaway.

I decided to head up the hill for chicken and chips. I was in the mood for that. What I didn't expect among the pile of discarded domestic refuse that often litters the alleyway beside my home was a television, a big flat screen television leant against the soft furnishings and bedclothes. The local beggars seem to be doing okay. Shame they've got nothing to watch. I imagine the disappointment of discovering the lack of visual inspiration on the box inspired the owner to throw it away to begin with.

Oh how I chuckled. Will I never learn? Because the worst was yet to come...

Chicken And Chips Please

After a stroll up the hill I arrived breathless at the takeaway. Ever since that old couple went off to retirement in Hong Kong you never see the same faces in there. It's almost as if the shop has become a training ground for chinese vendors of fish and chips.

"Yes please?" The lady asked. They always smile. I suspect it has nothing to do with politeness, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Chicken and chips please.

"You want chicken chow mein?"

No. Not really. Chicken and chips. Good. That's sorted that. I sat down to wait which I have to admit can happen in any chinese takeaway if you're unlucky.

"Thank you Sir." She called. Oh goodeee... My food's ready, except... What on earth is she serving me? A flat container in a plastic bag? Since when did chicken and chips get served like that? Has she sat on it? I looked gingerly inside and realised my piping hot chicken chow mein awaited my pleasure. No, no, no, I wanted chicken and chips.

"Chow mein?"

Chiiiiiikennnn... Annnnnd.... Chiiiiips.... Remember to shout louder. Their english isn't so good. She pointed at a menu to a set meal. Oh good grief no, what is going on here? Chicken and chips is simple. Just a normal bag of chips. Add a quarter of roast chicken. Every other fish and chip shop in the country can cope with an order like that. No, not the set meal version. How difficult does this have to be? One of her colleagues nodded and correctly confirmed what it was I wanted. Do I mind waiting? Why? Has she got a customer service lecture booked? No, I guess not...

"Thank you Sir" She called again with another smile. What on earth is she offering me this time? Whatever it was, it didn't look like remotely like a mouth watering chip shop fest. It wasn't. It was set meal No.93. Chicken, chips (half portion), and peas.

As I left I heard her colleague say "He won't be coming back."

You know what? That option is definitely being considered. It would help if they understood what their customers wanted. What a rubbish takeaway that place has become. Oh dear. I seem to have told the whole world about it too.