Holly at the Ivy
We were meeting after two years. I was the guest of my good friend David at The Ivy, a fashionable eatery. Both arriving early, we repaired first to an ale house nearby for pints of their finest. Thus the merriment began.
Moving on to the delightful buzzy restaurant, we were seated well, sideways-on, next to the waiters’ main thoroughfare. Plenty of room to stretch out my legs. Two large glasses of red wine on, the devil in me pictured the scene if I stretched them out as waitress Holly passed. She was saved by the arrival of more wine.
- Category: True Stories Told As Fiction
8 comments add one below
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VerityAlways over 2 years ago
The Ivy, I looked up, very very fashionable indeed!! God, I need to x times to afford this;-)
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Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
Well I wish, Verity! Whilst The Ivy in central London is indeed very, very fashionable indeed, the company has opened a number of less very, very brasseries in selected upmarket towns and city locations in England, Scotland and Wales, including the pretty little city of St Albans.
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VerityAlways over 2 years ago
I'm really glad you get to eat at these places while I salivate virtually ;-)
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VerityAlways over 2 years ago
It would take years for me to afford this!
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Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
Oh I can’t really afford it, David paid!
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VerityAlways over 2 years ago
The Davids i know are in the same boat as me ;-) Glad you went!!
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Christopher over 2 years ago
The one I saw pictures of was in Covent Garden. That's a gorgeous place.
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Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
It sure is, Christopher. I’ve never been there... tends to be reserved (way, way in advance) for the glitterati and the super rich! A few years ago it spawned a smallish chain of Ivy-branded brasseries for provincial toffs (and me!), one of which, in a pretty little ancient city, St Albans, at one end of my bus route, was our lunch venue.
