We were so busy chatting that we didn’t notice that Rosey was tottering her way back across the café with a somewhat overloaded tray of cups and glasses. We spotted her just as she was trying to work out how to open the door, and before we could go to her assistance she had already turned around and was opening it by pushing against it with her back. Suddenly a young was heading toward the door from the street, and rather unwisely pulled it open sending Rosey staggering backwards out onto the terrace and straight into his arms! All we could do was to watch on as steaming coffee shot up into the air and a large dollop of whipped cream landed fairly and squarely on Rosey’s nose.
There was little bit of discussion going on only interrupted by occasional giggles from both of them. Rosey called out that she was going back inside with her new acquaintance to repair the damage done to our long awaited drinks. A few minutes later she was on her way back with a big grin on her face and a refilled tray. We all looked on in part amazement part horror at the green concoction Rosey was about to swallow. She was more interested in telling us about Claude and was obviously quite struck by her new found friend; in fact they’d even swapped phone numbers. She told us how charming he was, and how just for once her parents might approve of him as he’d told her he was a barrister. As she was gushing about him I glanced inside the café to see him tying on an apron and making his way behind the counter. I thought I really ought to tell her that far from being a wig wearing justice of the peace, he was actually a Starbucks Barista. She actually took it very well, and said she still found him very attractive even if he does smell permanently of soggy coffee grounds.
I commented on his rather unusual name; you don’t get too many Claudes these days. That reminded Daniel of an old joke and he asked us what you call the loser in a hissing, scratching cat fight. The answer he said was – Claude! Don’t worry if you don’t get it straight away, I thought about it all day before it dawned on me and I doubt it will ever sink in to Rosey’s brain! Whether Charlie got it or not I don’t know, but she came back with another cat joke; what does a cat do when it stops? Answer, paws. Mmm! Rosey liked that one and suddenly clapped her hands together and said that the answers to those two questions reminded her of a cat joke of her own.
To say that she got in a muddle telling it would be an understatement. I must say, it is quite a tongue twister, but between us we managed to sort it out for her. It goes like this. What is the difference between a full stop and a cat? A full stop is a pause after a clause, and a cat has claws on its paws. We simultaneously broke into a round of applause and stood up to leave. Rosey assumed she was receiving a standing ovation and bowed her head banging it on the table! After the laughter and assorted groans had died down, Rosey tipped her Tazo Green Tea Crème Frappuccino down her throat in one enormous gulp, looked at us with horror-film green lips and bulging eyes, then pulled an agonised face. ‘That was horrid’ she squeaked then let out a thunderous belch! ‘That’s better’ she said, ‘Gone with the wind’. That was the funniest thing she said all day because she was making an amusing reference to the fact we were planning to visit the Vintage Picture Palace later that day to see the Vivien Leigh film of the same name.
‘What colour is a burp?’ called out Claire. ‘Burple’ chuckled Rosey!