The second interview with one of my favourite companies took place this afternoon. Apart from answering the same questions that I’ve had to answer multiple times for each employer so far, I was asked a couple of ‘thought problems’ as well: the problem of Pythagoras’ Pizzas, and the issue of Fibonacci’s recursive staircase.

I’ve no idea how I did today but I feel so exhausted with smiling, answering the same questions time and time again, formulating new questions to ask, and just smiling, that I nearly fell apart. The worry of Humph is also playing on the minds of both Michele and me, and we really could do with many billions of dollars. That way we could just spend our lives fucking about and looking after our dear parrot.

During the interview with one of the tech guys I asked if the company had a canteen. He looked nonplussed. “A restaurant sort of thing” I added, in the hope of quashing any apparent Anglicism. He laughed!

So, while Michele was driving me home, I tried a simple experiment by telling her that “I asked someone whether they had a canteen there.” She laughed hysterically and it was a miracle we didn’t drive into the central reservation.

When we got home we related the, seemingly innocuous, question to her mum. She laughed so much I thought she was going to hurt herself!

What is so funny about the word “canteen” ?

Answers on an e-card please.