Some Waiters Recieve Tips. Not Me.

I notice I have not revealed much of what is going on in my life over the past few months; however, it being Father's Day and I being a Father, though Fathers with a capital ef in my life walked endlessly long galleries, wore black robes with wings and the white halo of a reversed collar at their necks, and were of the Society of Jesus, more commonly known as Jesuits or, in the vulgar, as Jays, but it being Father's Day, as I was saying, I thought the time ripe to tell my loyal readers more, though why the one should prompt the other will remain a mystery there being no obvious link. And, while on the subject, it would in all probability be quicker for me to phone my loyal reader and tell them my news personally, unfortunately, I do not have their number.

(Anyone recognise the style of the opening? No? Hint: Radio Four is currently serialising his most famous works. Very well, I shall have to tell you. John le Carré. Isn't it obvious now you know?)

Actually, John le Carré is part of my news but not a part I am at liberty to reveal for reasons concerning which my fingers are still crossed and so refuse to type an account. There is much my fingers are refusing to type at the moment: like all extremities, they are most superstitious being, as they are, situated so far from Central Control and thus vulnerable to every rumour and snippet of gossip doing the rounds. Having being burnt several times, they now wisely keep their councils to themselves and refuse all instruction even from the most impeccable of sources.

In brief, I have been waiting. I still am waiting. Certain things I have been waiting for have materialised, like a sum of money I had forgotten about that means I have been able to jack in my job and stop bothering people on the phone in a professional capacity. The sum of money is not a fortune, but enough to tie me over for the immediate future; just enough, I hope, to take me to the next stage of which my fingers refuse to type.

I am waiting for another sum of money I also believe I am owed that would make all the difference longer term but which those who are holding pretend does not exist. They, the holders of this other sum, are standing in the middle of the room with their fingers in their ears and their eyes screwed tight, chanting, 'I can't see you. I can't hear you. You don't exist,' over and over. I have invested some of the first sum in a manufacturer of darts and am throwing examples of their produce at the chanters with increasing accuracy.

Bertrand Russell said, 'The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.' If this be the case a lot of magical things are going to get very bored waiting for me.

While waiting, I have mostly been celebrating birthdays. First, there was Amy's fifth, followed by Katie's second and finally ex-Sue's sixtieth (and still not a grey hair!).

Katie the Glare and Trainee Senior Manager of Being Severe

Amy the WAG and Trainee Film Premier Attendee & Star