“You look smart. Are you off somewhere nice?”, said the man operating the luggage gate at London Victoria’s mainline station. (Being blind this gentleman has assisted me onto trains on numerous occasions hence his familiarity in speaking to me in this manner).
“No, just work”, I replied.
“But its Sunday Kevin!”, he said with obvious surprise.
Suddenly everything clicked into place. The 4 coach train at my local station when, during the working week the train consists of 8-10 carriages should have screamed, “It’s the weekend you crazy man!”. Likewise the lack of people at the station together with their relative absence on my walk there should have registered with me as signifying that it was a Sunday.
I have never done anything like this before and can only conclude that my desire to be early for the meeting I was due to chair on Monday morning, coupled with the need to prepare for it so occupied me that I neglected to notice the trifling fact it was Sunday rather than Monday! Oh well at least my guide dog Trigger enjoyed an early morning trot albeit on a Sunday!
Today, as on every working day, I went into my office in central London with my trusty guide dog, Trigger. On opening my emails I was pleased to see, in among the various pieces of work requiring my attention that a colleague had emailed around saying that, in honour of his birthday he had made a lemon drizzle cake and we (lucky people) should help ourselves.
The cake was, I am pleased to report most delicious. Having partaken of the delights of cake I emailed my colleague thanking him for it and saying that, fortunately Trigger haden’t managed to get anywhere near my tasty snack, (Trigger has been known, on occasions to relieve unwary colleagues of their lunches. He is, obviously working for Wait Watchers and performing an invaluable function by preventing my office from over eating, noble beast that he is)!
Scarcely had I pressed send on my e-mail when I heard a commotion – Trigger had helped himself to the remains of a colleague’s slice of cake and, irony of ironies the person in question was none other than the birthday boy. Oops and double oops! Fortunately my colleague was more concerned whether the cake would upset Trigger’s stomach and not at all about the loss of his tasty snack. Oh the joys of taking one’s guide dog into the office. Anyone for cake? I’m sure I had a chocolate one somewhere. Now where could it have gone …