Thick cut chips

Went to London Friday, on a train, the first time in many years. Quite a traumatic experience, all in all, because I'm Not Used To It. I go places in my car mostly. Last time I was this traumatised, I was flying back to Englandland from Chicago.

The flight in Chicago was delayed due to stormy weather in New York. Eventually it took off, one in a long queue of planes leaving at the same time. And instead of having a few hours to kill before my flight back from Newark to London, I had to dash directly from one plane to the other. I tell you, it was almost a miracle to see my luggage arrive on the carousel.

Arrived back at the more-deserted-than-usual train station late-ish on Friday night and decided to stop at George's Tradition for some award winning fish and chips.

I was struck, waiting in the queue, how bright and friendly all the staff seemed to be; and how dull and stupid all the customers were. Six people were waiting for fish to finish cooking. There was literally a five-minute wait. But every single other customer, apart from myself, managed to forget what they'd ordered in that interlude. So that when they started putting the orders together and calling them out, people were just staring into space.

And that, my friends, is why I want to move house. There is an infectious disease in Snottingham called Thickflu, and everyone seems to get it eventually.