Chinese Bedroom antics

I’ve just eaten a meal whilst sitting in a Chinese bed, in a Thai restaurant, with a South African traveller in Battersea.
The bed is six foot by six foot.
Wooden frame.
Low table in the middle of us.
Lots of cushions to sit and lie on.
More an Arabian cushette than a Chinese bed.
My guest crossed his legs, as I did mine.
We sat opposite each other.
I ordered a pot of jasmine tea.
Delicious.
We had spicy prawn cackers to start with then.
1. vegetable tempura with a hot and spicy sauce.
2. fried ricecrackers with something on top.
3. little baby spring rolls with a sweet chili sauce.
4. Thai fishcakes with a hot sauce.

At the end of the meal my companion veritably shot out of the Chinese bed.
I uncurled my right leg, untangled my left leg, pushed the heavy wooden table two inches to the right then, using every muscle in my body, managed to fall out of the Chinese bed, onto the matted floor, two feet below me.
Don’t worry nothing was hurt only my pride.
My dinner mate then came back to the flat, collected his bike and cycled off into the night.
I am absolutely pogged. The idea of taking my clothes off to put on my dressing gown is the only thing that is making me type really quickly.
I still have the taste of the spices in my mouth, I may even make another pot of jasmine tea.
Today we honoured Jeremy Beadle by talking about hoaxes and embarrassing moments. You lot made me laugh so much I nearly had an embarrassing moment myself.
We then had an illuminating discussion about working mothers.
Given that I have always worked, I am grateful my daughter has turned out okay,( not least because of the Jim lad ) it was fascinating listening to the guilt we women carry. The idea that we can have it all…really!
Tomorrow is the first day of February.
January 2008, never to be seen again.
I am about to disrobe, so kindly avert your eyes.
Thank you.
night night.
cu2morrer.