I was twenty-three
Preamble from Tuesday 26 Feb): Stef went into the room of one of the Senior Auditors, who dropped something on the floor (like he had a guilty conscience) & Stef couldn't help noticing what it was - a glossy magazine with pictures of fleshy women - absolutely no doubt that it was a girlie mag. And would you believe who the man in question was - it was Rob. I was really quite shocked when she told me, & so were the other people she told - Nikki, Gaby, Ruth and Helen. I mean, of all the people - if it was almost anyone else, but Robbie Reverend. Dreadful.
Another day. I really don't know how I managed to get through it. I had so little work to do - but I managed to pad it out. I was sitting in my room when Pat walked in, & wanted to know what had been going on Tuesday when he walked into the big room and Nikki and I fell about laughing. We had actually talking about Rob and the magazine, & had been commenting on the fact that if it had been Pat it wouldn't have been so bad, because he's so open about it anyway. Anyway, Pat wanted to know what we had been saying, so I said that we had just been talking about people in general. He then went on to say that maybe he was putting two and two together and making eight, but he knew that there was a story going round about Rob that was completely untrue and unfair.
And then at lunchtime, Gaby asked me about this, having been told by Stef, who was told by me. Gaby said that she and Pat have fallen out, because she brought the subject up with him, thinking that he had been the supplier, something that he denied, and proceeded to say that if we prevent somebody reading that sort of stuff in the office, it's a form of sexual harrassment. All I can say to that is, would Pat also say that if somebody or somebodies decided to bonk, if somebody objected would that also count as sexual harrassment.
At lunchtime we had a serious drinking session in the Aristocrat. Very pleasant - left the office at quarter past twelve, and it was nearly quarter past two when we returned to the office. I managed to survive until half past four, when I decided to call it a day, & went home.
I watched this morning's Westminster - most of it concentrating on the Gulf, but also talk about the economy, and speculation on a June election, but I would put my money on an October election, although, I also take the view that John Major and Chris Patten might be forced to call a June election - especially seeing as though the media will now have nothing to report on. I'm just trying to remember what sort of things used to make headlines before the Gulf crisis, and it's occasional interruptions such as a change of Prime Minister, an assassination attempt thereupon, and the snow and bomb attacks attempting to make British Rail even more awful. It shall be interesting.
I am now watching What The Papers Say, some wanker from the Sun talking about the 100 hours ground war. Would you believe it but Jean Rook in the Daily Mail has announced that Stormin' Norman Schwartzkopf is an international sex symbol, & how are the women of the world going to surrender him back to Mrs S.
Feeling really tired, I phoned Lucy up to say that I couldn't make it today & I have spent most of the day lazing around, reading the paper mainly. United have Webb, Bruce, Robins, Robson & Phelan injured; Darren Ferguson made his full debut, and Ryan Giggs is sub. They lost two-nil at home to Everton.
I watched the BBC Main News. Hint of a return to normality - they had a film report on both the Ribble Valley byelection, & ritual sex abuse in the Orkneys.
Coalition generals have met with Iraqui generals in the desert. Meanwhile Iran radio (remember Iran? It used to be a pariah state) has reported anti-Saddam protests in three cities, including Basra, Iraq's second city while there are rumours of a Moslem revolution. How long does he have?
Local audits begin again. Mixed feelings - was I or wasn't I looking forward to our visit to Felixstowe. Quite excited at the thought of actually having something to do, but could I cope with the stress of local audit work, and the inconvenience of being off base. Ally called for me at about ten to eight - I was far from ready, but there again, he had stipulated eight o'clock.
The journey to Felixstowe was far from exciting, but it was reasonable. We called off at Ipswich station, ostensibly to pick Mark up, but he didn't get off the train due in at half past nine, & the next was due in at half past ten, which was the time that we had said that we would be at Custom House, so we went off to Felixstowe. I was well impressed by Custom House: a spanking new building, opened, I thimk, in 1987. It is mainly glass & is in a shape reminiscent of a ship. It would look horrendous and arty farty in a town, but on the edge of a Dock Yard, it looked pretty good.
We went inside, & proceeded to spend the next two hours with the Assistant Collectors, two of them. I couldn't help feeling really that Mark (when he arrived) & I were surplus to requirements, it was really Ally, and, when he arrived, Roy from the Reading section who were asking all the important questions.
After lunch we went for a drive round the docks which was pretty good - seems to tbe the best bit of the audit - not very taxing at all. I was quite surprised to see quite how large Felixstowe Docks are - bigger than Liverpool or even Immingham - and just so full - like loads of ships and millions of containers.
We returned to the room in which we were based, & I spent the remainder of the afternoon reading through things. Then we went to the hotel - a little guest house more or less in the centre of Felixstowe. Mind you, having said that, it's not difficult to be in the centre of Felixstowe - it makes Douglas look exciting!
After an hour or so sorting oneself out - actually the room is pretty good. Not en suite, but there is a washbasin - always a good thing - we went out. Our first port of call was a pub called The Grosvenor just across the road from the Guest House. Unfortunately I was unable to drink due to the tablets that I am taking right now. We then went on to an Indian restaurant for a curry & then back to the pub, before heading back to the hotel.
And then I went to bed. Not realy a great deal to say about the day. Just another local audit. I'm pretty demotivated if the truth be told - I don't know the reason why, but I would suspect it's due to the fact that I'm only too aware that I might be moving off pretty soon - obviously it would be nice to know at some stage what lies in store for my future.
Another day on the audit. What is there to say really? No particular highlights of the day, although the evening was a little more exciting. We spent quite a long time in the pub before eating. We had a really decent conversation on a pretty good subject - starting off with the Battle of Agincourt, moving onto the relative merits of Heny VIII & Elizabeth I, and working through to 1688, the so called 'Glorious' Revolution, & whether it would be possible to have a Catholic Prime Minister.
We then hit the town & decided to go to a Greek restaurant - which was rather nice, I have to say. And the best thing was that there was a really dishy Greek waiter. He was absolutely gorgeous, and it was fun to ogle him for the duration of the evening - much to the amusement of the guys. It struck me as quite funny to have got all the way to Felixstowe and fallen in lust with a Greek waiter: obviously, I was fully aware that the minute I walked out of that restaurant I walked out of his life. And no doubt, every evening some woman goes into that restaurant, and falls for him. But as I say, it was fun. It was also quite amusing the way Ally was winding me up about reeling from the lips of the owner, an older man (60ish), who gave me a kiss on the cheek, into the arms of the young waiter who was holding out my coat, & according to Ally, I was hoping for a kiss from him (am I that transparent?)! After the meal we returned to the pub and talked about football.
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