John McCullagh September 12, 2008
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‘I cannot apologise enough, Sir,’ the Manager of Fosters spluttered.

 

‘I have no idea how this happened!

How can I ever recompense you?’

 

You would have thought Peter had rehearsed his response. 

 

And indeed you’d be right. 

 

Further you’d imagine that the manager would come to this same conclusion. 

 

But indeed he did not.

 

‘Two large ice cream banana sundaes, please. 

 

With lashings of fresh whipped cream!’ Peter sang out loudly.

 

His facial expression remained deadpan.

 

‘Certainly, Sir!’  

 

The manager positively effused. 

 

‘And will there be anything else?’

 

‘Well, I take it as given that we will have our coffee cups replenished. 

 

Mocha, this time, I think? 

 

What would you like, John?’

 

‘Oh, yeah. That’s fine by me,’ I muttered, hating that the attention had momentarily shifted in my direction.

 

The sundaes arrived promptly and I have never tasted the like. Though I did have some difficulty swallowing with all the attention we had garnered. 

 

Not so with Peter. Cool as a cucumber.

 

‘Would you like another?’ he enquired solicitously of me. 

 

‘But we have no money!’ I whispered urgently, as I glanced around to make sure no one could hear me.

 

We don’t NEED money.’ 

 

You’d have thought he was speaking to a child.

 

We have influence in this Department Store!’

 

Without the slightest hesitation he ordered two more sundaes.

 

Again they promptly arrived, each brimming over the lip of the elongated glass dish in which they were served.

 

 

The whole staff positively grovelled as we exited the Store some few minutes later.

 

 

…. more to follow ….. 

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