I woke up sore from being in bed too long, although I didn’t feel a lot better. I went downstairs for some toast and fruit, and when we came into the lounge where we usually have breakfast, there were people sitting at our table. Now, I say “our” table, but it’s no such thing. It’s just the table we happen to sit at every morning because it’s near the bar and we don’t have to shout or wait forever to get the waiter’s attention for tea. No problem, there was plenty of room, but it started the day with a weird sense of wrong.
Later, we went up to the World Lounge and took the big table in the corner near the only well-placed outlet. There’s an older lady who normally sits at that table and holds court. She doles out advice to the other old ladies about how to get online, and which are the nice crew members, and which lounges have the best food.
She came in just before lunch and looked absolutely put out that, in a room where every single table was occupied, someone was at her table. She asked us whether there had been a power cord left there, and we said there hadn’t, although I could perfectly see her power cord in her bag. She sat at the table next to ours, giving us the evil eye every few minutes as though she was having an epic internal battle about whether or not she should demand we get the hell off her table. When we left for lunch, we hadn’t even stepped away from the table before she was moving to take our place, much to the consternation of the folks she was talking to.
Never looked up from my desk, because I was working.