We went to a lunch this week to celebrate the 60th birthday of one of my Russian cousins. It was a lovely occasion, though not uneventful, and a good time was had by all.
A trio played traditional Russian music, which bizarrely included ‘Those were the days’ by Mary Hopkins, which added to the atmosphere. My goodness, a couple of balalaikas and an accordion can create some volume.
We were lucky enough to be sitting right by the band. It was only possible to speak to immediate neighbours.
One of my young cousins was sitting opposite me. I hadn’t seen her for ages. I passed a message round the table “How are you Sarah?” and the reply came back “Level 567 on Candy Crush.” I gave up the idea of trying to have a sensible conversation and just chatted to the people sitting right next to me.
When the main course arrived it was a tad under seasoned for my taste. It needed salt. The salt was the other side of the table. I passed the message along “Pass the salt please.” When the request reached Sarah I noticed her calling over a waitress and whispering to her. Oh good, it was working. To my amazement the waitress then ran off and before I knew what was happening I had been bundled into a wheel chair and propelled into the disabled loo.
I won’t go into details about what I did next but if you’re in the Brighton area the local Russian folk band are looking for new instruments.