There is not much food in our house, and what there is consists of fruit and cake. Not much else, just fruit, and cake. I’d like to think that both those go someway to creating a balanced diet. Fruit is full of vitamins and natural glucose and er, fruit stuff. So no chance of scurvy or fruit deficient deaths there. Cake is full of fat, fat, fat and more fat, so no chance of dying of cold during the winter months there. Essentially you might argue that I need some other minerals and food parts in order to survive and I would wholeheartedly agree. Or, after all that cake, clogheartedly agree, which is more likely. I’m very much in the mood for savoury and I’m not really sure how to make either of those things work. I was tempted to put cheese on a cake, but realised that rather than creating something I might enjoy, I would just be ruining the memory of two of my favourite food stuffs. Then again cheesecake exists, but I’m fairly sure they don’t use cheddar.
I’ve already had a busy day today, attending a meeting at the BBC TV Centre this morning about stuff what I can’t tell you. Unlike the last time I attended that well known building, I arrived earlier than Kathleen (who I was meeting there), and sat with a confidence that I was meant to be there. Previous TV Centre visits have left me feeling like I might be kicked out at any moment for loitering, but I’m starting to get used to it now. Nobody stared at me oddly so I must’ve fitted in well. I think wearing the same outfit at the cleaning staff helped. (Please note, I did not wear the same outfit as the cleaning staff. I was just carrying a mop). The meeting was all a bit good, and more importantly, in my current state of poverty, Kathleen bought me a coffee and a bottle of water as did the Beeb person we met. This means I tallied three drinks and all I had to do was say words. I like this and I feel its one step closer to gaining Derren Brown abilities. Its more likely that the people I happened to be meeting with were very nice. One day I will offer to buy people drinks. It will be for only one day though, as after that day I will be poor again from having bought all the rounds.
This ‘getting bought drinks’ thing happened last night as well. While it makes me feel like an absolute scummy loser, it was quite nice that people were so lovely and accommodated my lack of dosh by providing booze for me on Layla’s birthday. Don’t worry, Layla was provided booze also, but I felt like the younger kid when its their older siblings birthday and they get jealous so are given a small present too. Being the older kid I didn’t get any of that, so perhaps in the grand scheme of things last night was some sort of adult version of that. Or again, more likely that all the people we were out with were bloody lovely. Which might also explain why they are our friends and they were invited in the first place. Well clever. It was a very good night and Layla had a lot of fun which was most important. There was however, one bad moment. I say bad moment, it wasn’t as though anyone dropped dead, or anything exploded (unfortunately. I love explosions). It was instead, an incident of unfairness in food. The bar we were in is a very nice place on Upper Street called Wax Jambu. Oddly enough it used to be called Kinky Mambo. I’m not sure if there is some sort of clause as to having part of the name sound like a character in the Lion King, but I’m reckoning if it changes again it’ll either be Gimpy Pumba or Shitty Timon. Being a trendy bar, it had a trendy menu and I had my fat eyes set on a veggie Portabello Burger, complete with sides of onion rings and chips, from the second I scoured the food list. Sadly, when I went to order they told me they were completely out of this item. I assume they had been ram raided by a horde of veggies earlier in the day. By veggies, I mean vegetarians, not that lots of carrots and leeks barged in to reclaim there mushroom pals in a prison break out situation, although that would be hella cool. Or more likely, loads of meaty people decided that they would be healthy and took all my food. Either way I was forced into getting the only other veggie item on the menu, a mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich. I did not think this was such a bad choice. Until it arrived. Layla had ordered the beef burger, and when placed in front of her it resembled some sort of evil monstrous creation. If Dr Frankenstein had made his creature using a sesame bun, beef and gherkins, it would look something like Layla’s food. I was very jealous. As her’s had cost £7 and mine had cost £6.50, with my previous burger option being only £5.50, I assumed mine would be of similar gargantuan portions. The waitress pushed a tiny plate in front of my, with a tiny tiny sandwich on it. I sat and waited, hoping some sort of sides were to arrive, but there was nothing. No extras, no special salad or chips, just my tiny tiny sandwich. I despaired and sulked for a bit, before eating my sandwich in 35 seconds flat and then complaining I was still hungry. How dare they play with my mind like that? I can only assume they did have portobello burgers, but saw me walking in and decided I had to eat less. So, I did what any good hungry man would do, and I stole chips and onion rings off Layla.
I shouldn’t really be upset by such things. Especially now as that sandwich seems so tantalizing in comparison to the fruit and cake combination I’m about to tuck into. I have to gig at Kingston University tonight. I only hope these grapes and toffee cupcake can keep me going till then.
Hmm, just re-read this blog back. I swear there are days that prove I definitely have problems. More sense tomorrow.