A Comedy Of Eateries

'Shall we hie us forth to the glorious town that is Stratford upon the Avon this fine Sabbath Day of Our Lord twenty thousand and ten?' said Mistress Denise.
'Yea, we shalt,' quoth Master Andy, 'but don't be over-doing the olde Englishe, eh?'
'I know not of what you speaketh,' sniffed Mistress Denise, 'but I do know I could partake of a cup of tea pretty soon.'
'Then let us hie to Stratford! At the pull of the power of sixteen hundred horses, we shall be there in the blink of a street hawker's eye,' cried Master Andy.

Our merrie travellers arrived in the town forth-herewith-in.

'Which olde worlde tea shoppe shall we patronise?' said Master Andy. 'Is there a favourite amongst the many that strew the streets?'
'I suggest we hie to Hathaway's Tea Roome,' said Mistress Denise. 'For we have partaken of tea and muffin there once before and you know how I dislike change, and also, although the floors were verily wobbly, there are indoor lavatory facilities available, and not only do I need some tea, mine bladder is verily as full as a swine's after it hath supped a gallon and a quart of ale, foresooth 'tis.'
'Too much information,' quoth Master Andy. 'But to Hathaways! For I can purchase a copy of the Daily News whilst passing on our travail, and we can spend merrily an hour readin' 'n' suppin', me fine beauty.'
'Steady on,' said Mistress Denise, 'th'art slipping into George III forward slash Blackadder speke.'

And so the companions purchased a copy of 'Th'Observer', it having the best available colour supplement compared to the other media offerings of the day. And into Hathaway's Tea Roome they entered, whereupon they were greeted by one sullen maiden who barely could raise an eye from an i-pod (Cor, that was good!), afore muttering 'Upstairs for tea.' A quick glance across her wares showed her eclairs were likely of yesterday's leftovers and not worth a groat nor a French guinea.

'I am liking to visit the indoor facilities firstly,' said Mistress Denise, 'for once I am sat, I may never rise no more.'
'Okay dokey, Mistress Mine,' said Master Andy. 'I shall loiter in the vestibule and toy with my dagger a while.'

Mistress Denise found the indoor facilities lacking in anything soft, strong and absorbent - luckily, for the stars were kind to her that morning, she had a Kleenex in her hand bag.

Once relieved, she returned to the vestibule, where Master Andy toyed with a faraway look in his eye.
'Stop thy toying now, Master Saucy,' said Mistress Denise. 'Let us secure a table in a corner and read a while, and take some tea and maybe a bun.'

For ten minutes and more they sat, on chairs that were verily meant for smaller tushes than the ones they presented, but no matter, for the diet begins tomorrow. Many young serving wenches schlepped around the place, looking for all the world like they wished to be home in the arms of Orpheus. Or is it Morpheus? Or Duveus? It matters not. Onward with the tale! More and more people brought their custom to the tea roome; and then...

'Ere,' said Mistress Denise, 'those people arrived post us, yet are being dealt with kindly by yonder schlepping wench before us.'
'Yea,' said Master Andy. 'And see the party in yonder corner. They have been dealt with also, yet they pitched up a goodly five minutes after our arrival.'
'That's hardly on, is it?' said Mistress Denise, who liked it not to be ignored when in situ as a customer with many groats to spend. 'Is't because we are perched, tight-buttocked, in a corner hiding behind the broadness of 'Th'Observer' dost thou thinkest?'
'Tis possible,' said Master Andy. 'But I am growing verily pi....'
'Yea, verily, me too,' interrupted Mistress Denise, because our heroes were of high-breeding and not ususally given to blaspheming in public, especially on our Lord's Day. 'How long shall we loiter in hope of being delivered of tea 'n' muffin think you?'
'Five minutes?' said Master Andy, for generosity abounded in his veins.

And so they waited five more minutes, rustling their papers, and coughing, and trying to catch the eye of one of the schlepping wenches, but verily, 'twas a waste of precious life, for 'twas as though they were rendered invisible by some dubious plot device like in 'The Tempest' or 'Cymbeline,' or Polonius behind his arrass. And not wishing to be inadvertently stabbed by a Hamlet wannabe, Mistress Denise and Master Andy left, nay SWEPT, from Hathaway's Tea Roome, vowing never to return there again.

'Never shall we darken thy door again,' said Mistress Denise, shaking an angry fist at the facade as they entered into the street.
'Come away hither,' said Master Andy, not wanting his lovely companion to start a scene as she is wont to do when scorned and in need of tea and muffin. 'Let us instead partake of luncheon at the Baguette Barge that floateth 'pon the lovely Avon. They shall not ignore us.'
'Only because they're stuck on a boat,' said Mistress Denise, gumbling like a cat with wind from eating too many mice. (What??????)

But yea verily, Master Andy was right and two baguettes of excellent filling were purchased and consumed whilst sitting on the grass watching some rather entertaining street theatre. Followed by an icecream.