Waiting patiently, we reviewd the menu and watched the tide slowly recede. Gradually the offshore reefs became exposed and gradually the waiter approached us for our order. So began the Incidente Continentale.
Our salad arrived and the Silver Vixen and Gorse Fox tucked in. No salad is complete without a light dressing of Olive Oil. The Silver Vixen drizzled some on her salad, and passed the oil to the Gorse Fox. Likewise, he drizzled the oil on his salad, but as he put it down he realised that the container did not have a drip-lip, and so in the process of drizzling the oil on his salad, he had also been drizzling the oil into his lap. His light beige trousers had taken on a sinister patch... not just a little splash, you must understand, but a large "wet" patch.
There was nothing that could be done. GF would have to walk around with his jacket draped non-chalontly over his arm - in front of him. Well that was a problem for later, first the meal had to be finished... and then a quick trip to the little boys room.
And there things got worse.
The tap was loose. So when opetated, the spigot turned and nothing happened. So the Gorse Fox held the spigot and turned the tap. Evidently the water was stored somewhere near the top of the mountain 3000 meters above, because nothing seemed to happen for an instant. Then, however, there was a mighty whoosh as the water exploded out of the tap like a cannon. The Gorse Fox was soaked... but just to make things perfect, it was only his light beige trousers that got hit. The Gorse Fox was not amused as he returned to the table. The Silver Vixen took one look and could hardly stand up for laughing
And so ended the Incidente Continentale, or In-Continent as it has become known for short.
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