The Christmas Day Lunch

The Lunch We had Christmas lunch at a hotel, so posh floors shone like a mirror you could not look down when passing a lady People sat in little groups whispering, and the silence was deep when some dropped a spoon. Festive decoration was absent- we are adults- the music was subdued the food was good but bland they were catering for the English peculiar taste in insipid food that has no story to tell it felt as being a guest at a wake It annoys me if waiters are too attentive they, not bloody slaves and should not behave like fucking sycophants. I like French waiters they hate you and cannot hide it but nevertheless serve you with Gallic elegance In moments like this when everything is soo civilised, I like to get up and make a Nazi salute just to shatter this inauspicious politeness that shuts out anyone not belonging to their fraternity. We left early was driving around sat in a park, enjoyed the sunlight and everything was right with the world