Being alone in a restaurant before it opens is quite theraputic.
This morning I was prancing around the kitchen in my cheeky Wah Wah hot pink short shorts listening to "Greatest Chick Songs of the 90s" only to get spotted by my angry Cockney veg supplier through the front window.
"Why ain't you wearing pants Chef?"
"I am, they're just really short."
"Well it don't look like it now ay? Why don't you jus wear nuffin. If I was wearin shorts that looked like nuffin, I'd just wear nuffin."
Not going to lie, the old fart has a point.
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