Eating, alone and sharing

You are how you eat

I watched a bit of the Big Bash cricket. Adam Gilchrist was in the commentary box. He talked about an ex-team-mate, an opening bat by the sound of it. One of those intense, single-minded characters.

“You know when you all go out for a some Thai food” Gilchrist said, “and you order, I dunno, Pad Thai, and someone orders a green chicken curry, and there's fish and prawns and dishes all over the table and everyone grabs bits and pieces from whatever takes their fancy?”

He went on:

“Well [whoever it was, I didn't catch it] would have none of that, he would say 'I've ordered what I want and that's what I'm eating'”.

While I'm quite happy to eat alone, I'd actually rather share a meal with a paperback book or newspaper than have some bore banging on while I eat. But I like that communal ordering and getting to try a wider range of dishes than would otherwise be the case. I've always likes the dim sum trolly idea. If time's not a problem, then you can sit there all afternoon, picking. Left to my own devices I'd never pick up a steamer basket of curried whelks, but with enough people around the table, someone will, and with luck, there'll be someone who enjoys them.

Er, where's the road gone?

Somewhere between disconcerting and terrifying, an interesting drive through the rebranded Sundridge-in-the-Sea and Braested-under-Water this morning. It was about a foot deep in places. Always ready with a jolly speed camera and ticket, the police were absent when some, or any traffic information and assistance would've been a great help. It was left to a couple of firemen giving half-hearted “slow down, mate” gestures to every fourth of fifth car.

Now there's two types of “go help with directing the traffic” for firemen.

One is when there's a better than even money chance of ending up to your elbows in blood and gore. In that case there's little resistance from the more blood-and-gore-adverse among the crews to doing a bit of stop, go, proceed with caution traffic control, rather than trying to stem some arterial bleeding or fill a metal bucket up with detached bits and pieces.

It's very different when what you're asking is for someone to go and do the most boring of jobs, when they're not really qualified to do it and it isn't their remit.

“Can you take Redlight there and direct the traffic for half an hour or so” will get you a sour face that suggests the bloke would rather do just about anything else, and that he and Redlight might just go on the missing list for a bit, have a couple of crafty fags somewhere, try to rustle up a tray of teas, and you can shove your traffic control detail.

As a training school instructor put it, “when there's no-one else to call upon, they call us out”, so if guys who seldom if ever say “actually, that 'aint my job” say “it 'aint my job” they usually have a valid point.