Cut down to size x 2

Getting changed after surfing, I had stopped, with pants at bottom of legs and towel securely round my waist, for two women to pass. One of the women was obviously (judging by attire) kitchen staff from Hotel in whose alley way we were getting changed. (I could, and did, envisage this lady with a meat cleaver.) I can not remember how the dialogue between me and her started, or why, but it featured the lines; 'do not worry I am not looking to cook it', 'who said I was going to share' and finished with 'nothing worth cooking there!' as she went back into the Hotel.

Quickly following this rather demeaning (and somewhat frightening exchange) I asked Si what he was doing on New Year's Day and reminded me that we had scheduled a fight on Fistral beach* against a 'boxer'. I pointed out that the fight was scheduled for 2 years ago and Si 'ran away up to Yorkshire to avoid the showdown'. I then did a little shadow boxing - only to be stopped in my tracks by Si's Taekwondo leg kick stopping just short of my nose...

(* on New Year's Day 3 years ago Si and I had decided to take up Taekwondo and boxing respectively and then meet up in a years time in a ring marked out on Fistral beach - suffice to say I have not taken up boxing and Si has now several grades advanced in Taekwondo!)