I apologise to my legion of adoring fans, those slack-jawed folk who hang on my every word as though it was the wisdom of the very Gods themselves. Days 9 and 10, namely Wednesday and Thursday were a mixture of busy and boring so it’s taken me a little while to think of something I could pretend had happened.
On Wednesday, numberly day 9, I took the girl at the station in my arms and ravaged her right there on platform 3 in front of the shocked and no doubt immensely excited commuters. Obviously I didn’t, in point of fact she wasn’t there on Wednesday, nor Thursday and it left a little unfilled, wave and shy smile shaped hole. The tramp was in his usual place though and as I passed and he began spouting his usual stuff about what a rotten life we are all leading I laid him low with a punch the power and precision of which hasn’t been seen since Ali was in his prime. When he came around several hours later he apologised to everyone who had ever passed him on the way to their job or home and admitted he was nothing more than a rogue consumed by his hateful jealousy. Obviously this didn’t happen either.
This morning the girl was back and, in what turned out to be my relief at not having missed out on yet another opportunity, my mouth had asked her out for a drink before my brain even knew what it was doing.
Oh dear, it must be a mid-life crisis. If only I had money I’d just buy the damn Ferrari and that would be an end of it.