My father found it hard to cope with waiting in general, and at restaurants in particular. He felt that the food should be at the table before he was. That’s why we never went out to eat. Why would they entice you with pictures of food that they hadn’t even started to make? That would be like going to the newsagent and waiting for the journalists to finish writing the captions. Who had that much time to spare? He had news to watch, letters of complaint to compose, feet to put up, half-moon glasses to misplace.
