Excuses. I suspect how easy they are to accept rather depends on how serious the crime. I remember my sister’s godfather once refusing to head into a wedding until the taxi delivering his cigarettes turned up — “but it’s three packs,” he kept protesting — which might have been fine, if my sister hadn’t already been waiting 15 minutes to walk down the aisle.
We all have our lines; few friends of mine believe it’s a call-the-firemen situation when I’m late and text to say I’m trapped in the pub. But the Coach & Horses did offer decent grounds on which to review Chung’dam; the two sit opposite each other on the crossroads of Greek and Romilly. Who wouldn’t want to discover an absolute corker of a Korean barbecue a mere 11 paces from their favourite pub? It usually takes me at least 18 to get to Café Boheme, and they don’t barbecue anything at all, amateurs.
