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—I'll give you something for it, and come to see you in a couple of days.
Woman: I'd like the continental breakfast, please.
Waiter: Yes, madam. What sort of fruit juice would you like to start with?
Woman: The pineapple juice.
Waiter: Would you prefer honey, marmalade or jam?
Woman: Oh, marmalade, please.
Waiter: And what would you like to drink, madam?
Woman: Coffee, please, black coffee.
Head Waiter: "Deep Sea Restaurant". Head Waiter. Good morning.
Woman: I'd like to reserve a table for five.
Head Waiter: And was that today, madam?
Woman: Of course.
Head Waiter: At what time, madam?
Woman: Oh, about three o'clock, I suppose.
Head Waiter: I'm afraid we only serve lunch until 3 pm, madam.
Woman: Oh well, two o'clock then, and it must be by a window.
Head Waiter: Very good, and what name, please?
Woman: Bellington, Mrs. Martha Bellington.
Head Waiter: Very good, Mrs. Bellington. A table for five at 2 pm today.
Head Waiter: "Deep Sea Restaurant." Good morning.
Man: Do you have a table for two this evening?
Head Waiter: Certainly, sir. At what time was it?
Man: What time does the band start playing?
Head Waiter: At 8 pm, sir.
Man: Right. Make it 7:30 then, and near the dance floor if possible.
Head Waiter: Very good, sir. And what name, please?
Man: Kryzkoviak.
Head Waiter: Could you just repeat that, please?
Man: Kryzkoviak, that's Polish, you know. K-R-Y-Z-K-O-V-I-A-K.
Head Waiter: Yes. Thank you, Mr. Kryzkoviak. We look forward to seeing you.
—What shall we do tonight?
—How about the cinema?
—That's a good idea. We haven't been for ages.
—What would you like to see?
—Oh, I don't know. Spy Story?
—Spy Story? That terrible, old film?
—But it's got James Perevelle in it. I'm still trying to write a story about him, you know.
—But I've seen it before.
—Never mind. Perhaps you'll like it better the second time.
(In the cinema)
—(You look so beautiful in that dress. Why do you have to die?)
—Would you like an ice cream?
—Shhhh. No, thank you.
—(Let's run away together and forget about the whole world.)
—What about some chocolates?
—Shut up! I'm watching the film.
—Well, I'm gonna get myself some chocolates.
—(Just you and me and nobody else.)
(After the film)
—That was really wonderful.
—Wonderful? Don't be silly.
—He's a fantastic actor.
—Do you feel alright?
—Of course, I do.
—I just wondered. You don't usually like rubbish films like that.
—It wasn't rubbish at all. Some of the films you like are really terrible, though.
The spaceship flew around the new planet several times. The planet was blue and green. They couldn't see the surface of the planet because there were too many white clouds. The spaceship descended slowly through the clouds and landed in the middle of a green forest. The two astronauts put on their space suits, opened the door, climbed carefully down the ladder, and stepped onto the planet.
The woman looked at a small control unit on her arm. 'It's all right,' she said to the man. 'We can breathe the air ... it's a mixture of oxygen and nitrogen.' Both of them took off their helmets and breathed deeply.
They looked at everything carefully. All the plants and animals looked new and strange. They could not find any intelligent life.
After several hours, they returned to their spaceship. Everything looked normal. The man switched on the controls, but nothing happened. 'Something's wrong,' he said. 'I don't understand ... the engines aren't working.' He switched on the computer, but that didn't work either. 'Eve,' he said, 'we're stuck here ... we can't take off!'
'Don't worry, Adam,' she replied. 'They'll rescue us soon.'
There were angry scenes yesterday outside No. 10 Downing Street as London school teachers protested about their salaries and conditions. London teachers are now in the second week of their strike for better pay. Tim Burston, BBC correspondent for education was there.
—Cigarette?
—No, thanks. Not before lunch.
—Please have one. It's a new brand.
—I honestly don't feel like one at the moment, thanks.
—I believe you take in foreign students.
—Yes, if you don't mind sharing.
—How much is it?
—Nine pounds per week including heating.
—Do you think I could have a look at it, please?
—We're having it decorated at the moment. Will Friday do?
—I wonder whether the dentist could fit me in early tomorrow.
—I'm afraid there's nothing before midday.
—How about 12:45?
—Sorry, but that's taken, too.
—I was wondering whether you needed any part-timers.
—What were you thinking of?
—A hotel job of some sort.
—Have you ever done anything similar?
—Not so far, no.
—There's nothing at present, but look back in a week.
—How do you want it, sir?
—Just a trim, please.
—Would you like it washed?
—No, thank you. Just leave it as it is.
—Are you being served?
—No. What have you got in the way of brown suede jackets, size forty-two?
—Sorry, but we're sold right out.
—Are you likely to be getting any more in?
—I should think so, yes. If you leave your phone number, I'll ring you.
—Eastbourne 54655.
—Hello. John here. Can I speak to Mary, please?
—Hold the line, please.
—OK.
—Sorry, but she's out.
—Would you tell her I rang?
—I'd be glad to.
—4864459.
—Hello. David Black speaking. May I have a word with June?
—I'll just see if she's in.
—Right you are.
—I'm afraid she's not here.
—Could you take a message?
—Yes, of course.
(Elina Malinen was in fact invited for an interview at the "Bon Appetit Restaurant". Here is part of the interview.)
Johnson: Good evening, Miss Malinen. Won't you sit down?
Elina: Good evening. Thank you.
Johnson: Now, I notice you left the Hotel Scandinavia in l980. What are you now doing in England?
Elina: I'm spending a few months brushing up my English and getting to know the country better.
Johnson: And you want to work in England too. Why?
Elina: I'm keen on getting some experience abroad, and I like England and English people.
Johnson: Good. Now, I see from the information you sent me that you've worked in your last employment for nearly four years. Was that a large restaurant?
Elina: Medium-size for Finland, about forty tables.
Johnson: I see. Well, you'd find it rather different here. Ours is much smaller, we have only ten tables.
Elina: That must be very cosy.
Johnson: We try to create a warm, intimate atmosphere. Now, as to the job, you would be expected to look after five tables normally, though we get in extra staff for peak periods.
Elina: I see.
Johnson: I'm the Restaurant Manager and Head Waiter, so you'd be working directly under me. You'd be responsible for bringing in the dishes from the kitchen, serving the drinks, and if necessary looking after the bills. So you'd be kept pretty busy.
Elina: I'm used to that. In my last position we were busy most of the time, especially in summer.
Johnson: Good. Now, is there anything you'd like to ask about the job?
Elina: Well, the usual question—what sort of salary were you thinking of paying?
Johnson: We pay our waiters forty pounds a week, and you would get your evening meal free.
Elina: I see.
Johnson: Now, you may have wondered why I asked you here so late in the day. The fact is, I would like to see you in action, so to speak. Would you be willing to act as a waitress here this evening for half-an-hour or so? Our first customer will be coming in, let me see, in about ten minutes' time.
Elina: Well, I'm free this evening otherwise.
Johnson: Good. And in return perhaps you will have dinner with us? Now, let me show you the kitchen first. This way, please ...
Tom: Well, what's the forecast? Are we going to have more snow? And ... is your mother awake?
Helen: Hang on, Dad. The first answer is 'yes' and the second is 'no'. Let's have a cup of tea.
Tom: That's a good idea. ... Where's Jean? Where's your mother? Jean, how about some breakfast?
Helen: Shh. Mother's still asleep, as I've told you.
Tom: And what about the twins? Where are Peter and Paul?
Helen: They were sick all night. That's why Mum is so tired today. And ... they're having a birthday party tomorrow. Remember?
Tom: Another birthday? Helen, look at the clock. It's 8:45. Let's go. We're going to be late.
—Me, officer? You're joking!
—Come off it, Mulligan. For a start, you spent three days watching the house. You shouldn't have done that, you know. The neighbors got suspicious and phoned the police ...
—But I was only looking, officer.
—... and on the day of the robbery, you really shouldn't have used your own car. We got your number. And if you'd worn a mask, you wouldn't have been recognized.
—I didn't go inside!
—Ah, there's another thing. You should've worn gloves, Mulligan. If you had, you wouldn't have left your fingerprints all over the house. We found your fingerprints on the jewels, too.
—You mean ... you've found the jewels?
—Oh yes. Where you ... er ... 'hid' them. Under your mattress.
—My God! You know everything! I'll tell you something, officer—you shouldn't have joined the police force. If you'd taken up burglary, you'd have made a fortune!
Why do people play football? It's a stupid game, and dangerous too. Twenty-two men fight for two hours to kick a ball into a net. They get more black eyes than goals. On dry, hard pitches they break their bones. On muddy ones they sprain their muscles. Footballers must be mad. And why do people watch football? They must be mad too. They certainly shout and scream like madmen. In fact I'm afraid to go out when there's a football match. The crowds are so dangerous. I'd rather stay at home and watch TV. But what happens when I switch on? They're showing a football match. So I turn on the radio. What do I hear? 'The latest football scores.' And what do I see when I open a newspaper? Photos of footballers, interviews with footballers, reports of football matches. Footballers are the heroes of the twentieth century. They're rich and famous. Why? Because they can kick a ball around. How stupid! Everyone seems to be mad about football, but I'm not. Down with football, I say.
Mrs. Brink: Come in. Oh, it's you again, Tom. What have you done this time?
Tom: I've cut my finger and it's bleeding a lot.
Mrs. Brink: Let me see, Tom ... Hmmm, that is a bad cut. I can clean it and put a plaster on it, but you'll have to see the doctor.
