Summary
LAST week I travelled from my house in very, very south-east London to a friend's house in Kilburn for supper. When I eventually arrived, he informed me that he hadn't been in the mood to cook but would send out for a pepperoni pizza. By dint of some strangulated cries and emphatic gesturing I gave him to understand that the journey (by bus, train and foot) had taken me 90 minutes and a roundel of greasy dough, cheese and pig bits would not suffice as reward.
"I suppose you're right," he said, after mulling this over for a moment, "I mean -- I wouldn't travel from here to King's Lynn for a takeaway, would I?" Well, quite.See the full content of this document
Extract
Long Way to Go for a Takeaway [Edition 2]
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