From a letter to Stense, 14-Jul-1999 (written on a train)

It was quite funny in the hotel restaurant last night. Nine of use met up and had a meal together, agreeing to split the bill nine ways and add it to each of our hotel bills. [Aside: I found it rather suspicious that the bill happened to divide exactly by nine (a one in nine chance, after all), but kept my mouth shut.] So the waitress brings back this yard-long itemised bill, which each of us has to sign against our respective room numbers. It all goes extremely well until the bill gets to Dave, who signs against the wrong room number, then it all starts going pear-shaped. Honestly, you wouldn't believe the brain-cabbaging confusion that this simple mistake could cause. Nobody else can work out where to sign any more, the waitress gets confused and starts crossing out room numbers and replacing them with random numbers of her own devising, rumours start spreading that Dave is sharing a room with one of the other attendees, fiery letters are seen in the skies over Devon, dogs and cats start walking about on their hind legs, a woman in Taunton gives birth to a goat, Pope John Paul II blesses the Irish football team, crop circles appear in the cress sandwiches, Jesus returns, and the entire population of China says "Meng" for no readily apparent reason. And, to top it all, Dave has just realised that he never got charged for the meal on his hotel bill.