Sometimes it’s not about the food you eat but the way that you eat it, or rather the place that you eat it. I’ve been away for a couple of weeks and so for my reunion dinner am after some booth action. Not the kind you dirty exhibitionists. But I don’t want to sit across a lengthy table straining to hear or be crushed into canteen style seating… staining to hear. For a proper catch up only a booth will do. Preferably retro, leather-covered with a mini duke box and the option to get a giant milk shake. I just want a booth date. I don’t really care what we’re eating…

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