Where's Your Head At? Or Your International Passport To Eating Pleasure?

19 June – Fool that I am was rather forgetful today – this did not seem to cause a problem at the latest working environment (although in effect, it did when I was Orwellianly asked to produce 100 points of ID) - left my wallet at home (I was not completely certain until I returned home on Thursday that it was actually left at home) but ... I got by (always good to have a unexpected meet with the father who loves to come to my rescue in such times).  This did mean a rather lame excuse at not producing a present for the brother’s birthday.  On the way home through the mucky patter I just hit the Milsons Pt end of the bridge (site of the career destroying crash) when I heard the spit-spit-spitting that goes with a puncture through the tyre wall in the wet.  I’d been expecting it for some time when I identified the gash in the tyre when I purchased my new wheels and the 115psi pressure wasn’t really helping – it wasn’t long before the tube was pushing through the Kevlar, just itching to pop.  Walked up to a closed ‘Cranks’ bike store but luckily hijacked the lone store man as he was heading home and let myself get ripped off with an overpriced tube.  Was treated to a spectacular meal at a new restaurant (for me!) for Robespiere’s birthday – Stuyvesant (your international passport to eating pleasure) was much more than I expected – the worst part was the horrifically varied menu that meant that no matter what happened I’d be disappointed because I couldn’t order everything.  Settled on eating a new animal (pheasant, so it wasn’t really much of a choice at all) and decided that I’d just eat something of the plate of every one of my neighbours and also finishing off the majority of everyone else’s ill advised deserts.  Knew I wasn’t going to feel good after that but the fact that I’d forgotten the tobacco fixings at the restaurant proved to be much to bear.  At least too much for Louisa to bear so she was obliged to drive me up to get some tailor mades (oh, the shame of it) and, as luck would have it, the first place where we were able to purchase the latter was only a block away from the former so I was in International Passport holder’s heaven (at least until I took one of them and that made me want to collapse).