Doom, Gloom and Christmas Dinner!

Above: The four of us trying to create a bit of atmosphere.

Above: Fabiano and me, pissed.

Above: Dave and his lesbian cook, Marianne, messing with the intricacies of

a Christmas Cracker.

Did you ever have one of those moments when you wish you hadn't rocked the boat? Well, last Christmas we had 28 guests for Christmas dinner. [it's easy, the secret is that you just use the pub kitchen] Now I don't mind cooking. I don't even mind cooking for people that I don't know [I was a pub manager for a lot of years] what I object to is cooking for a bunch of cunts, pissed cunts at that, who are friends of friends [and both liks being very, very, tenuous]. So, since around Easter, any time that Christmas has been mentioned, I've always added the rider of "This year, I'm not cooking, we're going out for dinner".
David knew that I wasn't joking and so booked us into the Fitzroy Grange Hotel. I couldn't have cared if we'd cone to Pizza Hut but Dave assured me that it was a posh place so, no sneaking bottles of Newcastle Brown in in my coat pocket.
Well, posh it was. Posh to the point of being Exclusive. Exclusive to the point of there being only the four of us for Christmas Dinner!
All the tables in the restaurant were set but only one was laid up with crackers, party poppers etc. I could have cried.
The service was good, quick too!
The atmosphere was a bit.....Well, you make your own entertainment.....
Fabiano asked the waitress why there were no other guests.
"Oh this is the first year we've ever opened on Christmas Day"
Needles to say, we had to leave a tip, it wasn't busy enough to sneak out unnoticed.