So, remember my trouble with booking hotels, and how Oh Patient One insisted on booking them for our Australian trip? Well, I am glad to say that they worked out just fine. Especially the one in Sydney. We had an absolutely spectacular view of Darling Harbour. Really magnificent.
But when it came to ordering coffee or tea, neither I nor Oh Patient One had any luck in communicating our desires to the populace. See, in Australia, you don’t just go the counter and order tea or coffee. You have to know the secret language of a long flat this, or a flat white skinny that, or a short fat flat whatever, and it’s all very confusing.
We discovered this shortly after our arrival. Oh Patient One and I–during our quest to discover where all the Wifi had gone–happened upon a nice looking café that advertised Wifi. Success! Or so we thought. . .
Oh Patient One wandered off to order our drinks–black coffee for him and tea with a splash of milk for me–and I booted up Annemieke, my new netbook.
Disaster struck. Instead of a cup of tea with milk, what I actually got was a cup of the weakest possible tea ever (so weak that I think the tea bag had been waved at the water, rather than immersed in the water) made entirely with whipped creamy milk with sugar in. Yuck. I really don’t like cream, and I don’t like sugar, either. So I went back to the counter, horrible tea in hand, and explained my problem to the cafe staff.
Me: ¨Look, all I want is a cup of regular tea with a splash of milk in it, and what I got was this creamy, sugary thing. Sorry, but I just can´t drink this.”
Cafe Person (in a very kind, patient voice): ¨Oh, what you want is a flat black tea.¨
Me: ¨Do I? But see, I want a splash of milk in it. Skim if you´ve got it.¨
Cafe Person: ¨No, I meant that what you should order is a flat black tea. And then you can add your own milk at the booth over there.¨
So that was the way to do it. From then onwards I just ordered a flat black tea and sorted out the milk situation after the event.
The Wifi in that café didn’t work, though. . .
Gah.
I’d be lost! I can barely order here in America without getting crossed up!
a tea disaster? Really, sweetie, for you that’s practically a win. If you’d said you ended up shanghaied onto a merchant marine ship or something, that would be more your style of “disaster.”
Alesia said: If you’d said you ended up shanghaied onto a merchant marine ship or something, that would be more your style of “disaster.”
Well, I did get randomly checked at Brisbane airport for traces of explosives. . .