Last Friday I was volunteering in the community cafe when an order came into the kitchen for a hummus platter (bowl of hummus, toasted pitta bread, salad, apple, carrot sticks and black olives). The jar of olives was empty so I had to get a new one out. I tried to open it. Eeeeuah. No joy.
I tried again, complete with compulsory screwed-up face and accompanying noise. Uwreuueah. Still no success. I called Sue who was on duty with me and asked her to try.
When she'd failed, I tried again - 'In case you've loosened it.' Uueeeeaaaarrrh. I was doing a good impression of a constipated elephant but having no luck in opening the jar. Sue pointed out that Kristina was upstairs in the office. Kristina is a triathlete; she is very fit. I took the jar up to her and explained.
Kristina couldn't open it either.
Now everyone in the cafe, apart from the customers who were all young mums and babies, had tried and failed to open the jar. 'I'll go next door,' Kristina said. 'See if there's anyone there.'
Next door to the cafe is a Turkish restaurant where Kristina found three strong men - but only one of them was strong enough to open our olive jar!
Ah well, it probably made his day.