Friday 25th October, 2013

I bumped into an old friend taking an analyst round to their office the other day and she had the grace to tell me I was looking well, but I know she was just being kind because I have had the stuffing knocked out of me this week.  When I get home in the evening now the nights are drawing in, I feel the need to just put my feet up, but on Tuesday evening we were visited by the gun licencing officer again.  This time to interview Bob.  I sat alongside, other than occasionally getting to my feet to refill my glass of Argentinian Sauvignon Blanc (£5.99 a bottle from Majestic ), on tenterhooks fully expecting some clanger.  The last time Bob had an important interview was with the headmaster of Oundle School when a large knife dropped out of his pocket.  That’s why he went to Rugby mainly.  For me Tuesday was a gruelling evening indeed!  As it happens I needn’t have worried.  One and a half hours later the police officer and Bob had become new best friends.  Though I say it myself Bob displayed a consummate knowledge of how to handle guns safely, assembling and dissembling a 12 bore and identifying a range of cartridges and the varying uses of each.  If I had been asked half of what he was I would undoubtedly have failed.  Gun licence as good as in the post.  Gentlefolk of Gazeley beware.

What a miserable so and so I can be.  Confession time….I wrote that paragraph before lunch.  Feeling better now.  It’s Bob’s birthday today and so he, Hen and Jimmy came down to London and I’ve just had lunch with them at Le Rendevous.  Now that is good for the soul.  But how little do they know about my day job?  First thing Jimmy said to me when they eventually arrived was “ So, Daddy, how much money did you make this morning? “  We spent a little while as I put them right on that score so I suppose I deserved it when I wrapped up proceedings after delicious lunch of cote de boeuf and a bottle of Luberon and as we went our separate ways Hen said she imagined I was going back to the office to spend an afternoon playing Tetris.  “Don’t diss Tetris Hen”, said Jimmy, “I spent my last two years at Rugby playing that game and I still managed to get into Bristol.”  And with that they trundled off to the thrift shop in Shoreditch.