Okay. My friends. I am staying (at my expense) in a lovely hotel in the centre of the capital city of my country; I travelled here this evening to attend a formal dinner where we were to host senior police officers from another country to dinner.
Inexplicably, our guests missed their flight from, um, Istanbul airport, a fact, I was only made aware of when already on a train en route to the capital. I lie. I was made aware of this while sitting in the train, three minutes prior to departure. Cue debate. Does one leap off the train (having already booked hotel, donned glad rags), or does one suffer for democracy and proceed with a bizarre travel arrangement, which, on amendment, may require further - ah - adjustment.....
Indeed, it is thought that their arrival may be delayed by a further two days, which may require my attendance, at, um, further, ah, meetings....
At one level, this is dreadful - at another, bizarrely hilarious, in the sense of the rich fabric of human life, blah, blah, blah....
However. I spent some time tonight, commingling with cherished colleagues, (all of us around to deal with our, as yet, unarrived, guests) in interesting pubs, and, even odder, (and unknown to me - life is a journey, where the unexplored and unknown is fascinating) strange dives....
I returned to my hotel at an impressively godforsaken hour (having ascertained before hand that they would be prepared to serve espresso to my room on my return, 'But, ma'am, we serve espresso 24 hours to guests' was the response which elicited a whispered 'bravo' from me), and politely requested a double espresso, which took a mere half hour to materialise, and when it did, the saucer lacked a spoon.
Yes. This reveals my deep inadequacy, my inability to contemplate an espresso without the indignity of adding copious amounts of sugar (brown, soft, organic, handpicked by mute [wasn't there a ghastly Puritanical fashion to Christen female children with horrendous names such as 'Silence' in the years written about with such insight and feeling by Nathaniel Hawthorne?] -male angels during the period of the waxing moon for preference).
Anyway. Please permit me my flights of fantasy. A sort of retrospective, if entirely useless historical retribution.
In any case: A spoon was produced, and an explanation vouchsafed. (Some stupid stag party, and one over-worked staff member). I was and am entirely understanding. And am now sipping a double espresso, which I am assured will not be added to my account, and which came fortified with an impressive array of Scottish biscuits. It is rather nice....