Wednesday, February 28/2018

Haircut day. Me, that is, as J usually cuts his own. Then we meet up in the courtyard of St Helena's Anglican, where the regular end of month used book sale is taking place. It's generally pretty good, as the books are donated disproportionately by British expats about our age. Too many light novels, but often a few gems as well. While browsing, I overhear the following conversation between a man and woman. He has obviously remarked on, and probably recommended, a vegetarian cook book:

She:  (apologetically) I really should be vegetarian, but I’m too weak.

He:   Oh, the problem is people eat too early. I never eat anything after five o’clock. I eat a big     

breakfast though.

She: (probably hoping to avoid further unsolicited advice) Have you ever eaten meat?

He:   Oh yes! I’ve eaten dog. I’ve eaten rat, I’ve eaten mouse.

She:  (weakly) That must have been when you were very hungry.

He:   Oh no! It was for the experience. I like to experience everything!

I do refrain from commenting on the stellar social life he must have, never eating before five and then vegetarian or rat. In all fairness, the vegetarian period seems to have followed, and probably superseded, the rodent period, but he is at pains to point out the voluntary nature of the dog and rat experiences.

On the way home we come across a cat, happily soaking up the sun.