So, I arrive at my hotel in Perth at 8pm after a slog of a work day which started in Melbourne at 7am. I’m eating dinner at the equivalent of 11.30pm so it’s a simple room service Fish and Chips.
I wait 35 mins and a lovely tray with a silver platter arrives..wearily I thank the porter(?) and ready myself. It’s been 11 hours since I ate on the plane and I’m famished. A lift of the lid reveals a plate of French Fries.
I eat the fries and rush to blog about it before I neck myself. It isn’t the first verbal misunderstanding I’ve had lately. I would call my wife to whine about it but she’s amidst her REM sleep right now.