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

Rappy tappy tap on the front door.

I answered it expecting to find a canvasser, but instead found the delivery man from the Indian place, with a big bag of stuff I never ordered. He checked his notebook again, as did I, and it definitely said my address.

"Oh hell" I said to myself, "I'm a bit peckish and it smells great. I'll take it anyway!"

So I said that to him, and he said "Well, if you didn't take it, it would just go to waste anyway, so just call it a fiver!"

So now for a mere fiver, I have

-prawn madras
- mushroom bhaji
-onion bhaji
- tarka dhall
- a chapati
- rice
- chicken tikka masala
- a mixed vegetable curry.


It's an *insane* amount of food.

So it's either a little gift of the universe and what-goes-around-comes-around, or on the other hand, maybe it's an elaborate ruse to poison me hatched by enemies unknown! But it smells so good I'll take the chance.

I'll need to do a random nice thing for someone tomorrow to even up the score.

I wonder who went hungry then just because they gave the delivery service the wrong address.

Yes, I felt slightly guilty about that...but it's not like I could track them down after all.

Any time I make an order they take a phone number, presumably in case of any mix-up like that. So I don't know why they didn't call back and check the address I guess whoever took the order messed up and didn't take a number. Or maybe they wrote the number wrong, as well as the address.

Leftover Indian for today's dinner. And tomorrow's, more than likely.

OH. oh.

Do we have a smiley for heartburn?

I think I need one now. I don't want to eat anything spiced ever again.

Dry bread and potatoes boiled.

I hope you have recovered KB. Take no gifts from smiling Indians, your gut isn't down with it.