Today I was told my lips are now back the right colour. Nobody told me they were ever the wrong colour! Apparently they were the last time my friend Robert saw me, which was for chips at Harvey Nicks in early December. The conversation went something like this:
- R: You look good, well, normal, well, as –
- Me: -Normal as I’ve ever looked?
- R: Yes. You’re a bit pale.
- Me: I’m always a bit pale; I prefer to call it an interesting palour, like Nicole Kidman
- R: Yes. Pale. Your lips are the right colour now though?
- Me: When were they the wrong colour?
- R: Last time I saw you they were –
- Me: Blue?
- R: No… just, wrong.
Right… clear as! So, we went for brunch at Roast in Borough Market. It was yum, and I had apple and beetroot juice and a tattie scone, and got lots of great advice about other stuff from my wise friend while we caught up. And then we stocked up on the Market essentials: Stichelton and mushroom pate and hot mulled apple juice in the market.
There a few nicer things than cheeses and apple juices from Borough Market. Except that my friend doesn’t like apple juice; he thinks it smells like, um, wee. And he doesn’t like beetroot because he thinks it tastes like mud. Which made my drink at Roast, in his words, a Muddy Wee drink. Nice.