imagine the scene
you're an internationally known music producer, in alyth visiting your parents, and a friend who emigrated years ago and you've not seen for eleven years comes to visit.
you have a wee wander about the place and decide on a cafe that has an outdoor seating area
it was a nice day, of course.
we were greeted by an individual in what looked like his school clothes despite being about forty
i requested a bacon roll and a cup of tea and my pal said that would do him too
its worth mentioning his accent is pretty funny from living in new zealand for years
the tea arrived promptly and it was heartening to see the proprietor nipping over to scotmid for some rolls
as my pal and i blethered about the wevs we've been up to the lumpy loon tried to make conversation with the usual standard of "where are you from?", and, "is everything ok?".
it was mostly fine. mostly.
the rolls from the scotmid over the road appeared eventually bearing a couple of chunks of anaemic looking bacon
liberal dousing of the proffered red sauce
my pal declined
mair tea and blethering and needless interruptions from the guy in his school uniform then i paid the bill and we left
it was my pal I've not seen for ages and i didn't mind paying ten pounds and forty pence for two bacon rolls and a pot of tea
that's ok
sunday was spent shooting hot gravy out of my hoop
i blamed the evening's proclivities
just spoke to my pal
he needs a new pair of breeks
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