Out For Lunch With Clean Pups

We washed the dogs and then went out to find an outdoor café at which to have lunch, where they could air dry and we could eat. We went to a place just around the corner for the first time, as it is very popular, always busy. We were going to walk further, but they had a free table, and we thought why not? We squeezed into a table in amongst their crush of small tables, which I thought was too small for us, but Sam was keen and nobody said they minded when I asked before we sat down. The café staff said how pleased they were that we were there. They see us and the bulldogs walk past every day, and this was the first time we stopped to eat. 

“Is this your first time?”

“Yes,” we said.

“Lovely,” said the waiter.

The sniffy French woman, eating with her handsome husband and child in a high chair, at the next table, got all cat’s bum when one of the dogs got too near to her. I know I should care, but really, Buddy and Brun were pretty quiet, so she had little reason to complain. (not that she did complain, actually, she said nothing, but she drew in breath and gave it big eyes, we got looks, sweetie. Not too hard to decipher) We kept the dogs away from her in the cramped small space as best we could. 

People continually stopped to say hello. Our neighbours, dog people from the park stopped by addressing Buddy and Brun by their names. 

“Which one is the baby, I can’t tell anymore.”

Everybody seems to know the names of our bulldogs. It left the sniffy French lady with little room to complain, frown, whatever. Brun and Buddy were well behaved, just pimping for pats from each passer-by, otherwise lying out on the footpath.

She had a husband worth looking at, though.

The coffee was terrible.

The food was average. Mine was a bit weird. Salmon, potato, cabbage, dry wafer, beetroot. Sam had a burger, with chips inside it. Why do they do that now? It’s a ‘thing.’

I was never really sure why they were instantly popular, as they were and I am still none the wiser. Apparently, they had another popular eatery someplace else, and the reputation just transferred.

Then we came home.

Sam kicked me off the PlayStation VR telling me I was hopeless, after encouraging me to use it, talking me into it, even.

Buddy lay at my feet.

We ate curry leftovers for dinner.

We watched Kevin Hart series documentary, Kevin Hart: Don't Fk This Up.

Holidays. 😬