"But it's the final!" he wailed. "Why would Belgium TV put on every single match except for the men's final?!"
It's winter sports season so after flicking through hundreds of channels featuring skiing, snow boarding and sledging he found it eventually on Belgium's equivalent to Cartoon Network.
Until about half way through the match (a very exciting one - Federer vs Nadal) when the channel decided it had had enough of tennis and went over to the news. Ben was washing up at the time and threw himself across the room at the remote, feverishly hitting all the buttons in an attempt to find it somewhere else.
He did, and I'm glad because otherwise he would be sulking all day. I don't really watch tennis myself, but Ben keeps me up to date with a running commentary. We also had the Aussie commentatary via my laptop and they came out with some gems; our favourite being "He's shivering to his shoelaces!" which I intend to work into my everyday vocabulary.
We went out on Friday to the Irish bar, and as usual Ben told me off for doing my AMAZING Irish impression until he got a few pints of Mais down him and merrily joined in with the Father Ted and Dougal quotes. We noticed an area of the pub closed off to the public that looked very interesting, and Ben wondered aloud whether it was just for the Irish patrons."I reckon we could get in there," I told him.
"Yeah, we could just walk on up the door and said 'Oi'm a very Oirish chappie!'" Ben cried gleefully, reveling in the way the Irish accent trips off the tongue. Unfortunately, life imitated art, and the song playing wound down to near complete silence just as he yelled the last bit, enabling his loud Irish imitating voice to carry clearly right across the crowded bar to the waiting ears of the Irish Barmen.
Ben looked at me sheepishly.
"You're going to put this in the blog, aren't you?"
We left quite soon after that.
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