Tony was trying to impress his secretary. He fancied her and finally persuaded her to go on a day-trip with him to France for lunch. The restaurant in Calais specialised in fish.
"Nous voulons de poison, garçon, silver plate" he told the French waiter.
"Cyanide ou strychnine Monsieur?" replied the arrogant waiter.
"Non, non!... poison... comme cravattes, 'al-i-but", continued Tony.
"Poisson! C'est poisson en francais. Pwus-on", corrected the waiter, secretly winking at the secretary. "Et quel pwus-on, Monsieur?"
"Deux soles silver plate, vite, vite!"
"Soles?"
"Deux soles, soles mernyair."
"Ah sole!" confirmed the waiter knowingly.
Steve McBrevity over 6 years ago
I can't think what prompted
this! It's not a lotte of Neville's usual nonsense. I know it's true as I was a mouche sur le mur.
Apart from the crabby garçon the lunch was brill.
So glad we didn't have the Burghers though. The bar sur Le Quay was so French and an atmospheric plaice to round off an excellent day out for Drablrs.
Neville Hunt over 6 years ago
Thanks Drew, it was prompted by our hilarious trip to Calais. :-)