Services
After my missus (I can now say that in the literal sense) decided that she wanted to go to a 2020 match in Manchester for a honeymoon I was happy.
The game was rained out.
We didn’t even get to see Dirty Dirk bowl.
We made up for it with room service.
Room service is the dog’s testicles.
Then the next day we drove back down from Manchester and on the way back we stopped at a Services.
For those in Australia that is what they call a truck stop like place.
The English ones are set up alot better though.
Rather than one service station, one fast food outlet and some brown stained toilets.
You have a proper variety of places to eat, shit to buy, and pretty clean toilets.
Three things it is hard to get on a road trip in Australia.
I decided on Burger King (known in Australia as Hungry Jacks) and we went outside to eat the food.
Most services are pretty clean.
They have people running around looking after the place all the time.
There are so many of the places they probably have to for the competition.
That is why I was so surprised to share my lunch with a rat.
Not literally, the cheeky fucker wasn’t getting one fucken crumb of my burger.
But while we were out on this decking this rat was coming out every 30 seconds or so to pick up bits of left overs about 4 metres behind my newly betrothed.
I told her, after the first 3 times, only because he was getting closer and knew I would need to evacuate her if he came over to say hello.
In the end he came out about 7 times, and it completely ruined my burgers.
How can you eat when you are on rat watch?
It wasn’t like he was disgusting or anything like that, it was just that he was there, and he was a rat.
On the way out I told one of the cleaning posse about my lunchtime friend.
He didn’t care, but he nodded, a nod of please walk away from me I aint gonna chase this fucken rat away.
I can honestly say I have never eaten with a rat in plain site before.
The odd mouse yes, but this was my first rat, and I had to go into the idyllic English country side to find one.
Still better than a fucken squirrel though.
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If you were at a services somewhere in Lancashire, I’m not at all surprised – they keep rats as pets up there and train them to harass anyone who is not local.
It’s dogs they consider vermin …
I think we were south of that, but can’t be sure.
In that case you were probably more in my direction and I therefore cannot comment – I have never braved the services in this part of the country.