did ya miss me? well did ya?

Don't be fooled by the clouds in the distance - they didn't trouble us for the week.

Hi, honey, I'm home!

I'll just ramble on for a bit to get back into the swing of things.

Thank you all for your holiday best wishes - and yes, I got out of the week exactly what I wanted, relaxation and contemplation, and not a bad colour either if I do say so myself.

Having said all of that, I will never go to Crete again, that's a given, and for one reason only. I will elaborate later just to tease you. It's pretty gross, though, you may just want to take my word for it.

You can’t expect me to go down to the local shop without something mildly amusing happening, usually at the expense of my dignity, so a week on a Greek Island was no exception. I actually took the time while I was there to write a story down on my Palm Pilot, which I have called “The Cretan Condom Caper” and will publish later in the week, for yet more teasing hehehehe…I should tell you, however, that the story is nowhere near as intimate as the title suggests.

I’ll whet your appetite a bit by telling you about our waiter one night. He was clearly the owner of this particular Greek restaurant which was right by our apartment – a short grey haired gentleman with a goatee beard which gave him a distinguished quality.

When he discovered we were from Dublin, he impressed us with his knowledge of our home country, obviously accumulated from the hundreds if not thousands of patrons which will have darkened his door over the years.

The meal was going fine until we asked for the bill. The food was good; I tried moussaka for the first time and was impressed, we were enjoying ourselves no less so than any of the other nights, until we asked for the bill.

Our host decided to take the cocktail sticks from our complimentary post-entrée fruit selection and pose us with a puzzle. I won’t bore you with specifics, but I’m sure you are familiar with the type of brain-teasers where sticks are made to look like one thing and you have to make it look like something else with a limited amount of moves. Well he set us one of these, and went on about his business.

We decided to humour him, even though we had both seen this particular puzzle before. We even agreed to pretend to be arguing over whether it was right to make him feel he had done the right thing by us, even though we were bemused by his actions.

After about ten minutes of him scurrying about serving other customers he came over, without the bill, and inspected our efforts. He was happy with it, congratulated us, and went off again, supposedly for the check. How wrong we were.

He came back with another ****ing puzzle.

This time it was an assortment of pea-sized balls which were joined together in clusters of three and four, and seemingly it was possible to put them together to make a pyramid.

Please note that this wasn’t even a tactic to have us drink more, as we were by now at the end of our last bottles of beer which we had received when we first asked for the bill, and he did not so much as suggest we order more.

Rather than show annoyance by the conventional method, I decided to have a bit of fun with the situation. I rearranged the cocktail sticks and the balls to spell the word “Bill!” and left it there for him to hopefully get the hint the next time he graced our table with his presence.

So finally after more scurrying, he comes to our table.

“What is this nonsense? I said it has to be a pyramid! Here let me start you off!”

And as we look on in disbelief, he puts two of the pieces together and off he goes again.

Now we'd had enough.

I grabbed one of the other waiters, he brought us our check, not very surprised at our frustration with his boss by the way, and we somehow managed to both pay and make our escape before he had the chance to chase us down the street with a Rubik’s Cube.

This was the most blatant of several examples I noticed during our stay that led me to believe the Greeks seem to have a hard time understanding how the Irish like to be entertained.

I notice a lot of you kept checking back while I was gone, thanks again for that and I look forward to catching up with my Blogroll asap.

That word Blogroll, by the way, reminds me of the word “bogroll”, which is a term we Irish use as an alternative to “toilet paper”, which in turn reminds me of why I won’t go back to Crete again. If you still want to know the reason, I’ve just decided to post it on my Irish blog “Ah Sure Ya Know Yerself” tomorrow.

Enough rambling for now.


Anna said…
Welcome back! Will be heading home on Tuesday - not looking forward to the jetlag.
teri said…
Welcome back yes...now finish the story. “The Cretan Condom Caper”??
shandi said…
condom caper huh? Did one of your waiters ask you to solve an algebraic equation with x and y being used condoms?
Great story. Even bad experiences are welcome for their blog worthiness.
Michèle said…
Welcome back. Your postings were greatly missed. Can't wait to read your story!
Jim said…
Hmm, condoms and 'bogrolls' (gotta love the Irish!) I'm not sure I want to check the other blog now, so much coming and going. . .
Garry said…
Yeah, do you think 'blogroll' was invented by someone who had no idea there was a near-pun there?

And good to see you back.
JL Pagano said…
Thank you everyone for your kind comments. I'm going to post that condom story midweek once I've had time to polish it up. As for my reasons for not going to Crete again, you will find them at the end (so to speak) of this link.
Jo said…
Hiya Jeff, I know you will have stalked me all over your blog, so you know exactly what I've looked at. Re. the family photo, no offence or anything but I think Maura is severly unbalanced. Sorry. Had to say that. She's on a par with Mark's dad as crap parent that's for sure...

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