The glorious twelfth
Mood:  chatty
Now Playing: Fingerbobs
Had a bit of an awkward situation with the ginger haired geezer's quack yesterday. Apparently he was a bit upset about something someone had told him I wrote in this thing. I was impressed anybody even read it but there you go. Anyway he wanted me to make clear that the reason he has a brand new Ferrari is not because he takes backhanders writing dodgy sicknotes for Random Limp Syndrome or Variable Bad Backs, but he happened to win it at a local WI meeting. It wasn't even first prize, that was a years supply of cake mix apparently. Only too happy to set the record straight doc, and I hope he has fun at that Civil War re-enactment, don't know whether he'll be a Roundhead or Cavalier, but it's nice to know that he keeps an eye on his patient's activities.
That aside it was another uneventful day down in outpatients, but it's also one of our busier ones. Thursdays is the day they round up all the old 'uns to take them down the post office and pick up their pensions. As part of a cost cutting drive, they now drop them off at the hospital so they can be ignored by the doctors for a few hours then they pick them up. I get a bit fed up wheeling them around listening to their war stories, compared to me what they've done is small fry. I don't even know what there is to boast about in some cases, so they had a day out at the beach back in 1944...big deal.
When I got home there was a letter from Khomeni's B&B on the doorstep. Nothing dramatic, just letting me know in advance of some of the rules and regulations of the place. That's a nice touch. It tells me I'm expected to bring my own prayer rug - although I can hire one while I'm there - and expected to read from the Koran or something before I tuck into breakfast. I'll have to go down Smith's and see if I can find that on the magazine rack. Maybe it's an Iranian version of 'Hello' magazine. One thing I didn't like was the rule about removing my shoes before entering the breakfast room. Mossad issued footwear is hard to come by and I'm not having some thieving Arab run off with them. Could be a problem there. Maybe I can claim some sort of cultural difference. Anyway I'm looking forward to my stay, and I'll let you know more about it in the next few days.
Tonight is the monthly secret agent reunion, don't know where it is yet, apparently they've left the instructions in a 'dead' letter box in Tooting High Street so I'll be stopping off there on my way home. It's always nice to meet up with some of the lads, but I'm never happy about the whip round at the end to pay for broken items. We got banned from one place who wanted to know why we couldn't use their front door instead of crashing through windows, and blowing off doors. Some people just don't understand.
Shalom