I couldn't be bothered cooking last night so I went out to my favourite Chinese restaurant. They serve great Cantonese cuisine, along with a fine selection of Chinese booze. The staff are very pleasant and the service is of an impeccable quality. They always appreciate it when I ask for chopsticks instead of cutlery, although I suspect that's because they enjoy watching me fling my meal all over the joint. Anyway, I ordered Stir Fried Beef and, seeing as I was on my own, some spare ribs. Spare ribs are one of those foods you never order on a date. There is simply no dignified way to eat them, and your date isn't going to want to be felt up by a pair of greasy, lemony hands. The meal was nice, but very filling. I'd managed to get a good 80% inside my mouth so I was more satisfied than usual. I fancied a sweet so I slipped one of the ribs into my jacket pocket. 'That'll do for supper', I thought. Just then the waiter appeared to clear my dishes, "Would you like a sweet?” he asked in a heavy accent, 'Yes, I'll have some Ice Cream, please', I replied. As he scurried off through the swinging doors I noticed a wasp hovering above the seat in front of me. I don't like wasps at the best of times, but when they hang around when I'm eating I really get annoyed. I wanted to kill this creature with minimum fuss, I was in public after all. I deftly tugged the napkin off my lap and flicked it in the direction of my flying foe. I connected! But only just. Disaster. I have angered the beast. It came straight for me. The smell of the spare rib in my pocket, mixed with the fear in my heart was irresistible to it. I had to take evasive action; I dived under the floor length tablecloth and hid like a baby. I don't know how long I was under there. I was disorientated and my phone was outside my panic room. What's more, it was in the same pocket as my supper so the winged demon wouldn't be far away. Just as the pins and needles in my legs were getting unbearable I felt the floorboards rock, ever so slightly. 'It's the waiter!', I realised. I was safe. Once I could see his shadow against the white linen, I lifted the cloth and tentatively poked my head out. I tugged on his trouser leg and asked, 'Is that wasp away?' 'No!’, he replied, startled, ‘It’s Vanilla'