Once more I take you to the wacky bit of the world that calls itself, somewhat perversely, the United States. From an outsider’s view it looks as if the States are pretty divided just now.

Here’s the deal. A man in Dundalk, MA had made himself a grilled cheese sandwich. While his back was turned somebody in the house, either his wife or his daughter, took a surreptitious bite out of it. He did what all right-thinking Americans do. He pulled a gun and let off a couple of rounds.

His wife and daughter, not unreasonably, legged it, and said gunman barricaded himself in the house. The police turned up and managed to winkle him out, presumably after he’d eaten the rest of his sarnie in peace.

Clearly this was a severe overreaction, but I sort of see his point. Few things are more irritating when I’m eating than somebody asking, ‘Can I have some of your fries?’ I always say, ‘Sod off. If you want fries, have some of your own, but don’t thieve mine.’

Worse still is the question, ‘What are you having?’ when several people are perusing menus. I always ask, ‘What does it matter?’ The answer is generally, ‘Because I don’t want to order the same thing you’re having.’ Why on earth not? If it’s what you want, bloody well order it.

Of course, what this question translates as, ‘I’ll order something else, then ask if I can try what you’re having.’ Infuriating.

I’m aware of a UK television series called Gavin and Stacey, though I have never watched it. I was discussing the toastie shooter’s tale with a mate, and he pointed me to a riotously funny scene where a group of friends is ordering an Indian takeaway. James Corden’s character goes mental about this very topic.

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