Breakfast Blunders #dreamdiary 112

We’re staying in Cornwall and we’ve found a lovely cottage pub to call in and have breakfast. We walk through the porched entrance into a square room with a reception desk attended by a lovely young blonde lady in a business suit. She takes our details then leads through a busy but clean dining room where everyone is being fed. She opens a door at the end of the room and beckons us down a dark staircase. She smiles and says, ‘The waiting room is just down there.’ At the bottom is another large square room with benches in the middle and hooks for coats. It looks like a school’s changing room complete with a musty odour of sweaty socks. It’s packed with people who we assume are staying somewhere in the pub and are waiting their turn for breakfast. As well as people sitting on the benches, there’s also people standing in line at the bottom of the staircase eagerly awaiting their call to breakfast. We’ve got no idea where the queue starts or even if there’s a queue and we’re relying on the receptionist to call us up by party. Suddenly, the door opens again and everyone starts filing up the stairs. As we’re the last ones down we decide to be polite and wait to be the last ones back up. When we re-enter the dining room all the tables are filled but we’re led into a side-room. It’s a corridor with a thatched porch within it with seats inside. I’m the last to enter but there’s no more vacant seats or even tables. I’m actually standing in the middle of where a table should be between a group of four. I start to wonder what the food’s like. I hope it’s worth the wait.