Easyjet and the Eaterie

So I was having lunch in a Barcelona eating house last Sunday when a rather large family (large meaning numerous) from Belfast got seated in the table next to me.

The first thing they ordered, almost in unison, was butter for the bread rolls. One gentleman had even learned how to say mantequilla, albeit rhyming with Cilla. Then they ordered coffees.

The variety of the menu was quite impressive, even for Barcelona. They all ordered steak and chips, or chicken and chips, with another coffee, a couple of them ordering espressos. They used red wine vinegar for their chips.

Smoking between mouthfuls, one of the women wanted to show off a bargain she had got that morning. She removed the Beckham 23 Real Madrid T-Shirt from the bag and showed it to all at the table. In friendly jest, one of the waiters came up to her and wagged his finger gently, indicating that the establishment did not approve.

The woman looked at him, rather affronted, as if her human rights were being impeded.

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