To continue with my theme of lost opportunities I must tell you about Simon The Pieman in the picturesque city of Rye on the south coast of England.
What could be better for the marriage of a Tillermans thirst with Tillermans midday appetite? Yes you are absolutely right, a sumptuous little tea shop in the middle of Rye, full, chocker, resplendent, yes outrageously, fulsomely and overflowingly ripe with a repast fit for a king, let alone a tubby little middle aged Tillerman! And from inside the little teashop the gentle chinking cadence of trays of Royal Dalton cups and saucers and fat steaming teapots bulging full of good wholesome English breakfast tea being carried to happy smiling customers sitting at cake laden tables.
Did I go in and slake and fulfil said thirst and appetite? Did I hell as like! You see I was accompanied by two intelligent, beautiful women who despite their intelligence, wit, charms and concern regarding my noontime yearnings, indulged their prerogatives and vacillations, their hummings and hahhing, they prevaricated, procrastinated and equivocated and before you could say English breakfast tea and two dozen assorted cakes please Mr Simon (and don't go easy on the cream please) the shop was out of sight. Bugger.
What to do? Well I'm going back, that's what I'm going to do. A Tillerman without the experience of Tea drinking in Rye is like a little yawl called Crackling Rosie without a tiller; rudderless on a buoyant sea of imaginings.
So I'm going back. Just see if you can stop me. Ha!
PS - Thank you ladies for providing me with this opportunity for a triumphant return.