I was in the huge Hyperdome shopping mall when I noticed a “Choice” discount shop (one of those shops that sells anything and everything at low prices); in fact I was just about to walk past the store when I had the thought:
“I wonder if they have any pretty (but cheap) serviettes?”
You may think that was a funny thought, but perhaps you aren’t house-sitting like me. If you were, you might realise that a conscientious house-sitter does not use up the owners’ serviettes (or anything else) willy nilly – things must be replaced so that the house will not be denuded by the time they return. I had already used a number of Sue and Glenn’s nice red napkins.
Sure enough, the “Choice” store, my store of choice, had a reasonable range of paper napkins, and all in the fashionable colours to suit the fashionable décor of my temporary abode: the cheapest ones were plain white (around a dollar for one hundred) but there was a choice (of course) – the quality white ones were two dollars for fifty; likewise, the red napkins were two dollars for fifty, as were all the coloured serviettes. Next to the orange ones were some very chic black ones but I reckoned they were too funereal for ordinary dinners (but maybe alright for a charred grill). Beside the black selection (fifty for two dollars and one hundred for three dollars) was the perfect choice for my table – fifty black and white polka dot paper napkins that reminded me of a new top I had bought recently.
Yesterday afternoon my old friend Roland joined me for dinner. The modern white table looked very stylish indeed, dressed in the best red, white and black table mats, shining silverware and sparkling glasses (dishwasher gleam), and the pièce de résistance… the pretty polka dot napkins! And no, I was not wearing my new spotty top to match, however, the tomatoes on top of the cauliflower cheese were colour coordinated with the mats.
“That was a damned fine meal,” said Roland wiping his mouth with the spotty serviette.
“So glad you enjoyed it,” I giggled.
“I haven’t had a home-made cauliflower-cheese in years,” he continued. “The packet cheese sauces don’t compare.”
I looked at his earnest face and I giggled again.
“That’s a strange response,” my friend looked somewhat perplexed.
“Sorry, but you remind me of Desperate Dan – you know, the comic book character!”
I tried to stifle my giggling.
“What do you mean?” he asked with a look of worry across his face, “I had a shave this morning…”
“Are you sure?” I mocked, and burst out laughing, “Go look in the mirror!”
“And, being blond, I have never even had a five o’clock shadow,” Roland came back laughing. (As you can imagine, the black dye had come out of the spotty serviette and gone all around Roland’s mouth.)
I laughed and hooted for considerably longer than he did and I believe he left thinking me a laughing jackass.
Incidentally, please keep this under your hat as I’m planning a few more dinner parties whilst I’m here.