I phone Travis to ask if we can come over to watch the England match tonight on his huge flat-screen TV (my TV isn't much bigger than a postage stamp.)
'Do you want me to get in a crate of Newcastle Brown Ale and some pork pies as well?' he asks, rather scathingly. (Travis is not a fan of football and he can't quite believe that I am). 'And are you going to show up in a football scarf and jump up and down on the sofa, swearing at the referee?'
'No to all of the above,' I reply before jumping on his offer of a curry (I know, I know but I really can't take any more raw food or nuts - at least not without developing whiskers and a bushy tail. )
And so the evening is sorted: the England game and a Thai green curry chez Travis. Result!