There are training rides, and then there are sunny rides along a canal to an Italian restaurant on a free Saturday, followed by a slow pootle home. Today was a bit more of the second kind.
In spite of my having insisted on paying, our lovely Italian friend Claudio couldn’t be stopped from beating me to the till. I tried pushing him backwards but he had superior strength, so I turned to the young waiter who was watching us patiently.
“Please don’t let this man pay!” I said. He looked questioningly at his boss at the desk.
“Do you ave an account ere?” the boss asked me.
“An account? What?”
“This gentleman, ee as an account ere”
“But he’s never even been here before!” I was getting very confused now.
“No, ee as an ACCOUNT, a NATIONAL account. Italian.”
“But I want to pay!”
“No. Not possible, you do not ave an account”. Serious Italian pout, and wagging of finger.
Followed by a free glass of Limoncello. Claudio says I can take him for Fish & chips.
INCIDENTSᐧOFᐧTRAVEL 
That’s what friends are for…. ( the more confused you get the better 🙃)
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Quite right. A friendly battle to pay is a bonding experience.
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I knew it!! It’s an Italian conspiracy…
You need to take him for a right old cockney knees up. Jellied eels and the works. Show him how you roll Islington style…
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