I get terrible food envy. In fact the words food envy don’t accurately describe the torrent of emotions that rage through me when someone chooses food different/superior than mine in a restaurant. Food anger is more appropriate. I actually need to order last to ensure I know what everyone else is getting before making my often regretted decision.
The peak of my food anger was reached lately when I was in Bali for a surfing trip, exaggerated by the fact that the nutritional needs of a man surfing far exceed the average non-surfing man.
The time was 7 in the morning, together with my girlfriend Katie and my buddy Mark we wandered down the street to get some fuel for a mornings surf and chose a cafe that we’d been to before previously. The shop had just opened so we made ourselves at home and waited to order. The lady came around and after the formalities were over it was decision time. Katie ordered first, something girly like fruit and yoghurt. I made what I thought was a safe reliable breakfast bet, the big breakfast. The Bert Newton of breakfast foods, waking up thousands of Australians and making them feel good in the morning for generations. As I lean back in my chair thinking I’d made a choice that can’t be gazhumped I realised it’s now Marks turn to order. My friend Mark has always been a bit of a wild card, his surfing prowess only exceeded by his charisma. The lady turns to him.
“Is it ah-”
He pauses for effect, looks around the table, knowing that within a few syllables he will achieve check mate.
“Ah too early for ribs? ”
Rook takes King.
“No darling, it’s never too early for ribs”
Mark smiles triumphantly.
That big breakfast could have been the best big breakfast in all of Indonesia, to me it tasted like missed opportunity.
A lost meal.
Flavour that I will never get back.
What does this have to do with camp chairs I hear you ask? Well I am glad you asked.
My girlfriend Katie just “Is it too early for ribs?”-ed me in the camp chair department.
I’ve had a safe reliable camp chair for a few years now. The Spinifex Bribie, what I thought was the Bert Newton of camp chairs, named after an island I’m quite fond of.
Enter the Wanderer Camping and Outdoor “Chair with footrest”.
Rook takes King.
A descriptive name for a chair that from a comfort point of view would be more at home in the bed category.
Now whenever I sit in what was once my sturdy, reliable, comfortable chair it leaves me with the same taste of missed opportunity.
A lost seating.
Relaxation that I will never get back.