A bacon plaster please (24 sept)

On our first weekend here we were taken out by a former work colleague of Jon, who took us to a beautiful little restaurant where we stuffed ourselves with amazing food. It was 11 in the morning but I was all over that veggie burger. (Second breakfast done! So, when's lunch?)
Not that this will come as a surprise to any of you, but i should really have a food device attached, to avoid Hulk moments of hunger-rage every two hours. Jon had an amazing platter of french toast.
See photo(I'm afraid this is quickly going to turn into a food blog).
On serving the food the waitress stopped for a second, and with her pretty face screwed up in disgust she said: "Do you want a fresh band-aid for that?" pointing to what she thought was Jons' raw, fleshy and bloodstained thumb, not knowing it was a plaster made to look like a piece of bacon. Yesssss.

Jons thumb and French toast