Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Wednesday 28 October 2009


On a day when I really need to bring my A game I wake up with a stinking fucking headache.

I decide to catch an earlier train but when I miss the 6.48AM I wind up on the 6.59AM. Yup that four minute head start will really make a difference to my day.

Lookalike Poker begins well as I see the Bunny from Extras lookalike from a few weeks ago. He still looks like an aggro tool. A few seconds later I see a Hitchcock lookalike and immediately begin to wonder if he is doing a cameo and I have woken up in a Hitchcock suspense.

With Tom on the text Lookalike Poker goes into overdrive today as I spot the corporate corpse of Anthony Costa, a man in a West Ham tracksuit that looks like both John Hartson and Iain Dowie, a lad that will grow up to be the guy from The Hills Have Eyes, Daniel Johnston, Moby and Michael Eavis.

Soon afterwards I get into work slightly early and immediately tear into my work. Not long after this the lady texts me to say she won’t be in today.

Last night AFC Wimbledon beat Crawley in their FA Cup replay setting up a first round game with Millwall and this is a really exciting fixture setting up a great day. I then discover the fucking game has been moved to a Monday night thus significantly/substantially reducing the fun of it.

From here I have an amazing day nailing the accounts in an acceptable manner. Here I almost complete a month’s set of accounts in just a day. There is however still an overriding vibe of tension. I think I am falling on the right side of things but a slip at any moment makes me feel I could wind up in the firing line. As a result of my productivity though I do not have to work late tonight.

After work as I change lines at Baker Street I nearly lose my hand in the closing door of the tube carriage. Even worse it was the hand holding my iPhone! That would have been a terrible loss.

Tonight’s is a crowded ride due to earlier signal failure at Great Portland Street and once free of the tube carnage I comfortably board the 6.20PM to Norwich. As I take my seat the bald headed fuck sat opposite appears to almost take offence at my daring to sit opposite him. He looks like future Marvin, the salaryman that he will become. If lucky.

As I sit musing my fortunes and where to take things I see Epiphany Girl board the train also. Looking at the spare seat on my right for a minute I think she may be sitting next to me tonight but then the reality of the world kicks in as she bounds past me to a better place.

Shortly after the train pulls out of Liverpool Street it becomes apparent that the bald guy opposite is sat with his skank, his ho. With an expression of snobbishness he makes comment to her “its cheap tickets isn’t it.” I sense he wants a carriage all to himself.

Later when the guy gets up and heads to the buffet car he returns with a can of Diet Coke and a pack of ready salted crisps. How bland can two people get and be? You can not trust people that eat ready salted crisps out of choice.

Towards the end of the journey he appears to begin ragging on his apparent other half for having a broken phone with a cracked screen and then the fucker chooses to point at mine as an example of a busted phone. I look at the guy and then the woman with a stinging expression of “what the fuck?” and after awkwardness and a pregnant pause he says to me “does it still work?” I nod an affirmative while ESPing “fuck off.” Considering for the last near hour I have sat opposite him with headphones in my ears attached to the iPhone, which is a pretty fucking stupid question.

When the train eventually arrives back into Colchester it is not before time and I display a strong degree of relief at getting away from these two bloodsuckers.

Back home Wednesday night is Wednesday night and I wish I had more to report for it.

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