All good things come to those who wait long enough

A master of such ineffective daydreaming was Billy Fisher, hero of Keith Waterhouse’s novel Billy Liar, which begins with the 18-year-old undertaker’s clerk lying in bed, idly itemizing the things he is going to change.

“There would be no more breath-holding, eye-blinking, nostril-twitching or sucking of teeth, and this plan would start tomorrow, if not today.” Yes, it takes time, which is exactly what was in abundance last week when three of us were waiting for food in a restaurant.

It was in a relatively posh hotel which had apparently decided to woo the locals, perhaps because the occupancy rate has been low and they could no longer rely on tourists with more money than sense.

How could they get their own people through the door, though, when the hotel had such a reputation for being expensive? The answer they had come up with was to offer a very cheap menu: less than 150 of our embattled local dollars for three courses.

The cynical among us, i.e.

yours truly, suspected that other costs, such as their famously exorbitant wine list, would bump the bill up to gasp-inducing proportions.

But at first you go along with it.

The waitress shows you to a table in a dark corner and promptly disappears without offering to get you some drinks. Somehow you feel you’re never going to see her again, which might be no great loss, but it would be nice to forget her over a leisurely beverage.

Ten minutes later one of her colleagues appears with some menus; not just the special one, but the normal, pricey one, to which she draws your attention while tossing the cheap option down dismissively.

Three glasses of the bargain red wine, you order, with frugality ruling the evening. She trots off happily, only to return with the news that they don’t have any, but they do have these frighteningly expensive alternatives, which unfortunately are not available by the glass. Therefore it’s US$60 for a bottle - or nothing. It seems less like an oversight by the management than a tactic. They’re expecting you to do a quick bit of mental arithmetic and conclude that, as the food is a virtual gift, you’re still going to get out of there with some money in the bank.

The wine I reluctantly choose is, in fact, delicious, which is just as well, because it’s the only sustenance we’re getting in the foreseeable future. While my companions chatter away in Spanish, which I have been trying to learn for seven years but still can’t follow when it’s traded in rapid, sloppily pronounced slang, I get to thinking about this new year business. You have to look at the bigger picture. It’s not all about us and what we’d like. There’s the future of the world to be considered.

By the time the starters arrive, for instance, global warming will be a thing of the past.

Before the end of the main course the next ice age will have come and gone and eventually, when we’re nervously handing over a credit card, the weather will be warm but not oppressive and the USA, Russia and China will have wiped each other out, along with North Korea because even Putin can’t stand that young guy with the silly haircut.

Reality intrudes in the shape of a huge bowl like an inverted sombrero, at the bottom of which lies a pool of what can only be tinned soup. No homemade food has that consistency, like paint but slightly grainy. It’s Campbell’s tomato with a dash of oxtail mixed in to throw you off the scent.

While polar bears prowl outside before eventually being terminated by the balmy weather, the main dish arrives: heavily spiced small chicken legs that were cooked last month and frozen, to save time during the Festival of the Cheapskates.

I know what I’m going to resolve to do this year: I’m going to give up noticing things, being sensitive to those who don’t have my best interests at heart. Life is easier if you’re a lemming – that’s why we say “blissfully” unaware.

The path of true happiness runs through the valley of optimism, up the hill of faith and through the mist of deliberate ignorance.

Only then will we emerge into the eternal sunshine of the nottoo- bad.

So let’s do our best to make 2017 a good year, while acknowledging that so much is not in our control.

Life is like a fancy restaurant and the w a i t - r e s s will be a l o n g in a minute.

We l l , w h e n I say a minute…