I’ve finally sealed something away in my life. I’ve managed to convince a load of old duffers to meet in the attic to talk about beer. They’ve actually climbed up the ladder and through the hatch in my house to sit down and drink it. Luckily there’s a few cans hanging about, and I’ve offered to go downstairs and fetch more. Instead, I’ve actually removed the ladder and put the hatch back in its place. I wonder how long it will take them to figure out that I’m not coming back. But one of them always finds a way to track me down. When I return to work the following day, there’s a new desk next to mine with crates of bottles of beer shrink-wrapped and stacked against it. There’s even a hogshead of beer waiting to be unwrapped. Then one of them arrives, eager to investigate what this new offering is all about and whether I’ve got anything to do with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment