Last night, The Fenian Bride and I decided to give the credit card another pasting and went to a fancy restaurant in Bath. We were having a quite pleasant evening and my general grumpy state, which has been a right problem lately, was ebbing and I had almost declared the Alert State as "Quite Cheerful" rather than "Grumpy". However into every life a drop of rain must continue to fall and a couple occupied the table next to us. He, minor public school and something middle-importance in a not very important firm of accountants. She, mother of two...now where did I put them, oh yes boarding school - how will I fill my days?? By being a twÂ£t apparently. The waiter we shared with them was a very nice young man, who we through conversation had discovered a)was about to go up to Durham for his first term and b)had just passed his RCB with a view to commissioning into the RA. As a Durham grad, ex-Gunner myself this would probably have covered a multitude of sins but as he was polite, clean, cheerful without being "Hi I'm your waitperson" and above all else efficient, we were chuffed. Not so the other adjacent couple. The bread was too cold, the water too hot. The olives were not from the south side of the valley and she distinctly remembered asking for Cinzano not Martini. Could the chef make her an omelette with only whites, or yolks or whatever? This fork was dirty but that spoon had been polished too brightly. Could they change the background music and turn it down too? Was this really a 2004 wine? Really..snifff...send it back and bring another bottle. Then when young Al was off finding some chervil or re-starching her napkin, she started in on him, to her hubby. He was slack, probably on drugs, hadn't gone to the right school probably and was generally deficient, not like the staff at "X" - a restaurant she professed to be a regular at where dinner would cost about five times she was paying here. She went on and on in an annoying timbre of voice... Our entrees arrived and as Al was doing silver servicey things with our vegetables she tapped him in the back, causing him to have a small serving dish related flutter. She then proceeded to complain about why "these people" - Cuddles and TFB - were being served while they were still waiting for their amuse bouche? Young Al started to politely apologise and explain but out of the corner of my eye I could see TFB's nose starting to twitch and that usually leads to violence so....I turned to face the stuck up bitch and said "Do you want to borrow a torch?" She goggled for a second and said "What did you say?" in a tone usually only ever heard in amateur productions of the Importance of Being Earnest. (A haaaandbag?) "It's just that you are so far up yourself, that there can't be much natural light..." Oh boy, was Cuddles in trouble? No, apparently not. TFB snorted with laughter, waiter Al tried not to lose his composure or job and husband finally remembered he had a pair and choke-chained the bitch back into some form of control. She tried to have a hissed anti-Cuddles conversation with hubby but he got another "come only death" look from me, gazed for ,I think, mercy from TFB but got the opposite and almost as if by magic...they were gone. They left an almost full bottle of Haut Medoc too...which curiously made its' way to our table. Oh and Al did something to the bill too, so I suppose a meal at "X" now costs six times as much. I think my current Alert State is therefore neither "Grumpy" nor "Quite cheerful" but "Wspy - Changeable"!!