The Wet Knicker rides again.

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We went to the Wet Knicker restaurant tonight for an evening meal (see a much earlier post to understand its name). What a mistake. The good thing was that there was no room in the bar to eat so we were assigned a table in the proper restaurant. I prefer the bar but it’s where all the likely lads congregate and shout obscenities at each other from end of the bar to the other, while guffawing raucously, and the atmosphere becomes unpleasant. Now I have no intention of curtailing other people’s speech, but when that speech incessantly employs the most vulgar words in the English language as punctuation, it becomes tiresome. So we were shown into the restaurant and my heart sank into my boots - it was dominated by two very large family groups, each with an irresponsible wealth of offspring. And there were party hats and balloons. Actually they turned out to be non-raucous and very well behaved. The food however was not so pleasing. My wife’s lamb was all bone, gristle and fat with precious little meat. My salmon was obviously something the chef found at the bottom of the freezer when he was cleaning it out and decided to stick it on the menu. It was truly dreadful, the sort of thing to which the former Prince Andrew is going to have to accustomed himself in his new-found impecuniosity. The sauces were heavy with grease and my accompaniment of potatoes was big enough to feed my entire family of seven. Who eats that much? We didn’t risk dessert and left as soon as we could - without complaining of course!!