See the Tree, How Big It's Grown

You know how sometimes everything just fits together, like a carefully designed movie scene? Then there's the time when everything is so incongruous that you couldn't possibly make it up.

The other night we were sitting in Windsor Castle, a perfectly quaint English pub just around the corner from us. It's decorated in old china plates and souvenirs of the monarchy.

They only serve, of course, Thai food.

We were drinking a bottle of Australian merlot, waiting on our spring rolls, while four elderly gents next to us enjoyed their meal and shared critiques of opera recordings.

Another gent came in and walked up to them. I thought he would join their table, but instead looked at their curries and Pad Khing, pulled a face, sneered "What a stench" at us, and then left the pub.

All the while, Bobby Goldsboro is on the muzac, singing "Watching Scotty Grow."

I think I'm going to have to start hanging out there more often.