Last night after dinner I retired to the cigar room here in the hotel. I don't smoke cigars; never had much use for quite that much nicotine. But there are chairs conveniently located beneath lamps; it makes it much easier to read and I've never actually seen anyone smoke a cigar there. Indeed I suspect the title of the room is somewhat grander than the reality.
So in walked someone clad in black with a beard; he kinda reminded me of someone who ought to be a member of U2. I hope I worded that in such a way that you'd understand that I know little of the band save that they're Irish. Somewhat later he was joined by various people, a small girl who was obviously his daughter, his wife and some friends.
It seemed quite the intimate friendly dinner and I felt almost like I was intruding. So up I got and moved to the other side of a glass wall and settled in to continue reading. Up walked a waiter most apologetic, asking what was wrong with the seat on the other side of the glass. 'Nothing' I replied. 'I just felt like I was intruding'. Smiles and the explanation that he was our chef.
So tonight, after dinner, I retired to the bar, in the same chair I'd ended up in after the relocation. Half an hour and one glass of wine later, in walked the same guy. A wave and he disappears. And 2 minutes later a glass of wine that I hadn't ordered appears. Compliments of the chef. A minute later and there he is. 'You look like you appreciate a good glass of wine' he says in an impeccable Irish accent (I got that part right ). So we shook hands and I complimented him on his lamb shanks.
Well I thought it was pretty cool!