SJW the Scrooge: One Day Only.

At the weekend I was full of Christmas cheer, taking it upon myself as the youngest in my house to be over-excited about Santa’s impending arrival; today though, this all changed. SJW became scrooge.

I woke up this morning and got ready for work and as I opened my curtains to the lovely weather I noticed something weird about my car. Being the grown up adult I am, I instantly shouted to my mum for back up. Mumma SJW promptly went out the door to inspect my car and confirmed the bad news; some idiot had smashed my wing mirror off. Merry Christmas, SJW! As I didn’t have my shoes on, I was hanging out my window shouting to my Mum, including some inappropriate language aimed at the culprit, who had long since driven off into the distance, only waking up my brother and his girlfriend, and probably the rest of the street. Oopsy.

I eventually ventured to work, whilst thinking that the consumption of a Marks and Spencer’s sandwich and cookie at lunch time would cheer me up from my scroogey state. Oh how wrong I was.

On the journey home, I was merrily driving along, heading home for the ladies night out to the cinema with Mumma SJW and my brother’s girlfriend. This journey should take me approximately 10 minutes, but I soon hit a shedload of traffic, which in the small city I live in, must have been the entire city out in their cars. It is always at a time like this when I actually look at my petrol gauge… low and behold, it was under the last white line and heading straight towards the red. Was I going to make it home?! At this point, I literally had no hope. Crawling up the hill, I was getting more stressed, eventually screaming ‘I hate people!!’ in my car. To myself. Once over the top of the hill, it became clear what the problem was; a flood sign. I know you’re all imagining a huge lake covering the entire road here, as was I. Oh no, in true P-town style, this ‘flood’ was just an enlarged puddle. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry…

Anyway, determined to enjoy the film, we went to see Saving Mr. Banks, which turned out to be really good and afterwards the best after-cinema treat: Nandos. With no shame I ordered a double chicken breast fillet burger in Mango and Lime, I don’t care if you’re judging my taste in spice, it’s ma fave. After what seemed like an eternity, my food came and I was looking forward to chow down, something just seemed wrong… first bite of my burger and my mouth burnt up. This was not Mango and Lime. Maybe I was just being an idiot? Got my brother’s girlfriend to taste and she had the exact same reaction as me, coincidentally she also ordered Mango and Lime and they did not taste the same. No way, hosay. Good old Mumma SJW took my food back to complain and possibly my favourite moment of this was when I heard her getting slightly irate and across the restaurant all I could hear was ‘she eats here a lot and she knows it isn’t right!’. Yep, loyal fan right here! Possibly the worst part of this experience was when the manager wouldn’t admit that it was wrong; I don’t care if you tell me they cooked it right, she refused to eat it herself, so how can you possibly argue that I’m wrong?! After giving me some spiel about how the sauce all comes in from a supplier so it couldn’t possibly be wrong, she offered to re-cook me a new one in a plain sauce.

Yeah it came quickly, but I wasn’t feeling particularly impressed and was vowing to never go to Nando’s again. The final cherry on the top of the never-go-to-Nandos-again cake was when another waitress came over and gave me a speech about how Nando’s sauce can be quite hot if you aren’t used to it as they use chilli’s. These chilli’s also vary in temperature due to how long they are left to grow in the sun. I genuinely couldn’t hold in my laughter; just admit something was wrong and leave me be to eat my dry, plain burger.

So all in all, I’m feeling pretty scroogey, but hopefully I will pick up my Christmas spirit again tomorrow.
Have a lovely Christmas everyone, and avoid Nando’s.


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