Does the old saying about the customer always being right not apply anymore? Yesterday we had lunch at a nice pub in Matlock Bath. A pub we have been to before with no complaints until yesterday, and as a result we will never go again. Riva is the name and I recommend everyone reading this to avoid the place like the plague due to their shitty attitude.

I ordered gammon, which came with fried eggs among other things (I used to be a pineapple person when it came to gammon and I can’t remember when the transition occurred). What it also came with was an over-exuberant sprinkling of powdered parsley on the fried eggs; presumably someone thought this was acceptable behaviour. Rather than attempt to scrape it off I just lifted the eggs off the plate and onto a napkin and ate everything else. When the waitress came to clear the table I explained that such a garnish should never be seen anywhere near a fried egg. She looked at me as if I was in the wrong and just smiled in a gormless way, not speaking until I referred to “some idiot in the kitchen” ruining my egg. She then went on the defensive about how nobody else complained, but offered no apology for my meal being tainted. Although I told her that the rest of the meal was nice, putting herbs on a fried egg made as much sense as pouring custard on. Where was my refund or at least a free drink? Is this how people are treated these days? There was a time when the slightest whiff of customer dissatisfaction was carefully dealt with and every care would be taken to make amends, and now here we are at a point where nobody gives a shit.

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Today we celebrated five years together, officially my longest relationship (and that includes my prison hell marriage that I managed to escape from after nearly four years). Where does the time go? It even sounds weird to think that we met thanks to talking to each other through Myspace; next year that will sound even weirder until eventually people won’t even know what that is anymore. When I met her I knew that she was different from previous encounters of an internet kind; she was intelligent, funny, and actually looked as good in real life as she did in her pictures. In the world of Myspace, your profile picture wasn’t always a true representation, or if it was then it truly represented you from ten or more years ago.

Anyway, I’m sure I’ve already written about this on the blog already so if you care that much just go to November 8^th of the last five years. I’ve been going through some of my old blogs adding labels and it’s been interesting to see how my career has developed since I started writing this nonsense all the way back in 2007. When I met Mandi I wasn’t doing any of the things that I am doing now, so I am grateful to her for letting me pursue my career without interference. This was the problem in my marriage as my wife didn’t want me to get on in life and so did all she could to ruin me. Mandi allows me to do my radio shows and go to gigs, and generally lets me do what I like in order to get work done. It has at times caused consternation as she has had to put up with the fact that I am starting out and needed to adapt a ‘career comes first’ attitude. I realise that every step up the ladder that I’ve climbed, (radio, newspaper reviews etc) have been since I met Mandi so I am really glad that although I can neglect her a bit, I love her like I have never loved before.

We went to Matlock for the day today, which we have done before but I couldn’t remember if we went last year or the year before. Thanks to the magic of obsessive blog writing, I know the answer now. The department store has sadly closed down.

Something I found very interesting when reading that blog again, is that I mentioned that the service at Riva wasn’t as good as it should be. Despite this we both agreed that the food was good enough to warrant a return visit two years later. This time was different though, as they weren’t even doing food due to unforeseen circumstances. We didn’t stick around to find out what these circumstances were, and went (on Riva’s recommendation) to another pub. The other pub only did food at the weekend for some bizarre reason, and I was starting to lose patience in the place. This is why I like living in the city; you can eat, drink, or buy a pint of milk at any time during the day or night. Just because we had arrived late we didn’t seem to find something to eat; do the people in the countryside only eat before a certain time. The final pub was doing food and a nice line in real ale, so we eventually had lunch. I really wish that I could remember the name of the place.

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