'Tea' Hee....

Listen, if you ever again hear me saying that I wish I could win the the lottery and become one of the idle rich, just point me back here to this Blip.

Today, we went up to Gleneagles for a cream tea. So far, so very upmarket. I'd been there before ( a spa day for my 40th, and a G&T once with a bloke who was trying to impress me) but this was the first time I'd been in the lounge. It's lovely, very Art Deco (or is it Art Nouveau? I'm never sure of the difference.) and looks exactly the sort of place that Hercules Poirot would have enjoyed.

Anyway, it was £16.50 each for two wee scones with clotted cream and jam, two teeny cakes and a pot of tea. Presumably, they charge that much to pay for for the unbelievably obsequious waiter to further his lessons at smarm school. Honestly, it was excruciating. Every time he came near us, he bowed so low that his nose was in danger of carpet burn....and I don't know about you, but I can manage to put my own napkin on my knee. I really don't need some numpty twirling it around his head, as though he was about to produce a rabbit from underneath the linen.....

I have come to the conclusion that I'm just not cut out to Be Posh.

Tomorrow, I'm going to the French café up the road - £2 for a pot of tea, and you're lucky if they blow the crumbs off your table before you sit down.

Bliss......