A few weeks ago I was out at the local festival — it was a warm, sunny day, and the entire town was out. Many second hand stalls were hawking their wares, and every so often along the corridor of pots and books and unwanted bric a brac, a catering van was feeding and quenching the crowds as the music in the centre stage clashed and blended with the make-shift alternative entertainment grounds’ percussions in festive brouhaha. A great event altogether.
I decided to take a break with my friend however at a nearby delicatessen that we both enjoy, mostly. I say mostly, as this venue sometimes irks me — not for lack of good produce (which is excellent) or for lack of pleasant service (they are delightful), but for lack of efficiency. Read more