h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Most of you will know that I live in Frankfurt. Not all of you may know that although I live in Frankfurt, I live in the countryside. Well, sort of, at least.
The Stadtteil (borough) where I live was a commune with its own administration until sometime in the 1970s when greedy Frankfurt expanded and swallowed our little commune. However, the then mayor of B-E negotiated that we should keep our own municipal office, along with a few other favourable things.
So now we have the advantages of living in a big city as well as the advantages of living in a village with lots of open country around us.
So it is that I don't venture into the city centre very often - maybe twice a year or so.
Yesterday, I had a rendezvous with a friend of mine, for breakfast 'downtown'.
It was a welcome break to staying at home all the time, even though I'm usually quite happy to stay here.
Now, having breakfast in a location (in the city centre!) called 'Bar Celona' called for something else than baggy shirts and trousers, which are my usual 'habit' when on my own.

I chose a long cotton skirt with matching top in dark beige, open, high-heel sandals in a similar colour, a light-beige leather jacket and my brown straw hat.
I felt very extravagant.

Now, I'm not used to wearing shoes with heels of more than a centimetre, so those 2.5inch heels didn't ask for sprints. However, it was exactly what I had to do if I wanted to catch the bus into town.

I made it by the skin of my teeth, fortunately without twisting my ankles or stumping my toes or any other mishap.

I settled on a single seat and passed the time reading. This ebook reader really *is* marvellous.

I braved all the steps up and down from bus to tube, and tube to tube etc, and arrived with enough minutes to spare to find the Bar. Fortunately, my friend had described it to me. I'm sure had a man described the location, I would have spent hours searching for it. Men and women just have very different ways of explaining things, especially routes; at least that is my experience.

The bar wasn't busy at that time, so we could choose a nice small table.
After a look on the menu. I went for what they called an 'American breakfast: Toast, butter, scrambled eggs and ketchup. Maybe if you serve ketchup any breakfast qualifies as 'American'?

My large cup of coffee which I ordered was 'American', too.

I took a large gulp and only my good education prevented me from spitting the brew out. Oh, silly me. There was no milk in it! Only now did I realize that the two milk jiggers weren't an adornment like the dark brown cookie that lay on the saucer. I'm so used to ordering 'cafe latte', or 'latte macchiato', or even good old German 'Milchkaffeee' that it never occurred to me American Coffee could *not* contain milk.

After I had added the content of both milk jiggers, it was OK, but not overwhelming. The American Breakfast' was just like any other breakfast, except for the tiny bowl of ketchup which was served with it. It was tasty but not filling, so I ordered another large cup of 'American Coffee'.
This time, it was even worse, because although I had added the milk, it tasted burnt. I added two sugar sachets, but to no avail. The coffee tasted horrible.

Now I'm not one to complain easily (a recent online test I did came up with the result that I was 'homo patiens'), or ask for extras, but my friend, on seeing me pulling faces, just called the waitress and asked for hot water. The service was excellent, and it took only a few seconds until a large glass with really hot water stood on the table. I added about half of that to my coffee, and it changed from 'undrinkable brew' to 'drinkable'.

At around noon more and more people came into the bar for lunch.
My friend and I decided to go home, but first we nipped into a book store where I bought two audibooks. One for my sister's birthday at the end of this month, and the other for my son's birthday at the end of next month.

We said goodbye and went our respective ways - she to the car park, I to the tube station.

I caught the tube home and immediately got my ebook reader out. I was so absorbed in what I read that I didn't notice anything that was going on around me. The announcement of 'Bockenheimer Warte' made me jump off my seat, though. That was the wrong direction! I made for the doors, but alas, they had already closed again. I could only catch a glimpse of a large sign saying: Bockenheimer Warte'. Well, I decided not to panic and get off at the next station and go back. Imagine my surprise when the next station that was announced was exactly the station I wanted to go! Time to have not only my ears checked, but my eyes, too, I think.
The rest of my journey was eventless, but then the bus only goes in one direction, and the stop where I need to get off is the last stop on that line.

I had a lovely morning, and now I finally know what my American friends have for breakfast. I don't envy them.

Have yourself a full Irish breakfast one day. It would be an education!

TRiG.

I've often threatened Fizzymouse I'd come for her Sunday breakfast (I don't recall how she called it, fry-up?).

I love a full English breakfast, but am not keen on French breakfast.

This is a great story. I don't eat breakfast myself, but when I do, it's yoghurt or some such.

Ketchup for breakfast.

My usual breakfast consist of . I have muesli on work days.

Going soemwhere for breakfast is a special treat. And I love scrambled eggs. I don't need ketchup for breakfast, though.

what you need is an Ulster-Fry!!!!!!!

and thats a recomendation coming from a welshman

That sounds like what Fizzy does. It clogs up my arteries just reading about it.

all washed down with a

Stout is fine. Just no Guinness. That's as bad as the coffee I had.

It reminded me of a story Dmitri once wrote: A Dissertation Upon Roast Coffee: A25323248

I settled on a single seat ? OH! so your usually greedy and like taking a full row up then eh!

<< but am not keen on French breakfast. >>

cigarettes and coffee?????

Cigarettes and coffee is my breakfast. French is Croissants and coffee. I'm not keen on croissants.

Prof, I usually go for the last row of seats and strech out.

and why not indeed

When the gruesomes have friends to stay overnight we usually end up making pancakes or poffertjes with maple syrup.
They're all convinced that's what we eat every day.

Would they like to have it every day?

no - I have asked them, but they're yoghurt&müsli for breakfast girls. Thank goodness!

For true luxury, a Dutch breakfast in an inn.

I think putting out chocolate sprinkles so people can put them on their breakfast toast is completely decadent.

a Yorkshireman in a fish and chip shopgiz a sack of chips an' half a whale, plus a ton of scraps love please

never mind the

chips and scraps

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2007/jul/13/doyouknowwhatscrapsarean