"Oh, I don't eat peas either"

More from my London Gazette, ;)

On Sunday, at the British Museum, we had tea. Most delightful. But, of course, the names of the teas were all fancy and undecipherable, so we asked our kindly waiter to explain:

Mom Vs Waiter, round 1:

"I was thinking of something with cloves in it . . ."
"Cloves?"
"Yes, cloves."
" . . . Cloves?"
"Yes. Cloves. Spice. Oh, how about a tea with lots of spice."
"Spice?"
"Yes, kind of sweet?"
"Sweet! We can do sweet! The 'Rose of the Orient' is sweet. And the Lapsang Ceylon has spice."
"Oh, great! Is it good?"
"Ehh... *wrinkles his nose and makes a face (away from her, but he didn't realize that it was directly at me)*"
("Me: I guess not, *soft chuckle*")
Back to Mom:"Well then, what do you recommend?"
"Actually, I don't drink tea."

Enough said. It was hilarious. And no, he wasn't some foreigner, because he could lead on a perfectly normal conversation. Just don't ask him about teas. Irony in its purest form, seeing as we were having tea, at tea time, in the Tea House section of the restaurant...

Later that evening, we confused yet another waitress at the amazing pub we ate at. Basically,

Mom vs. Waitress, round 1
Waitress: "What would you like to drink?"
"Beer please."
"Any particular one?
"No, I'm not really sure about all the different kinds you have here in London."
"Ok then, how about something light"
[The conversation has been shortened because of an abundance of brand names, types, and "technical" terms that the author cannot remember, because she was too busy laughing when it all took place]
Mom: "So, what do you recommend? Not light."
"Actually, I don't drink beer."

So much for that...
And then, later, when Mom asked for the difference between the peas and the mushy peas (doesn't that just sound utterly unappealing? Mushy, of all adjectives), we got the now standard response, "Oh, I don't eat peas either, actually."