I arrived in Battersea at about 6.30 and figured I'd have time to get a quick sit down meal at Pizza Express, who true to their name usually give you your food pretty quickly. Obviously the show started at 7.30 so I'd need to be at the BAC by about 7.15 at the latest, but also to give my food a chance to digest so I didn't spit it all over the front row of the audience I'd need to be all done by 7. Surely this would be easy enough. Definitely with a little prompt to the watiress as I ordered - "Quick as possible please!"
I ordered a chicken salad, concluding that not only would that be healthier, but it should be faster to prepare and then tried to finish the Sudoku in the Standard. My throat was still pretty sore and a full on cold seemed to be developing and I wasn't in the best of moods, but my orange juice arrived quickly and that soothed me a little.
At about five to seven I started looking around hopefully. Surely the arrival of the food would be imminent. "Would you like another drink?" asked another waitress.
"No thanks, but do you know if my food is nearly ready. I have to go very soon."
"I'll just check for you."
She came back within a couple of minutes and said my food would be a couple of minutes. Five minutes later the salad had still not arrived and by now I realised it would be useless to me if it arrived. I would wolf it down, get indigestion and end up sicking up in the back of my throat as I ranted about Rudyard Kipling.
I decided to leave, but I wasn't in the mood for a fight and didn't by now have time for a discussion so I approximated that my meal and drink would have cost me less than ten pounds and left that amount on the table. Maybe I should have just left money for the drink as it would be easy to argue that I needn't pay for what I hadn't consumed and when I had let the staff know that I was in a hurry. Perhaps I was crazy or
perhaps it was some kind of retribution for this incident (though why Pizza Express should profit rather than this little privately owned cafe, I can't explain).
I left quickly, grumpily saying there was money on the table and headed for the venue, now worried that I wouldn't have the strength to do my 105 minute show with no fuel in the tank, but aside from a bit of strain in the voice I got through it all fine, with no tummy rumbles. It's been a fun little run at the BAC and thanks to everyone there for the help and support.
I am only disappointed that my faith in the wonderful Pizza Express has been slightly dampened.
