Leave Me Alone! No... I Didn't Mean It....

For months now I have wished that The Wall would just leave me be to get on with my monotonous jobs while he did his and tonight was no different. Once again, he announced that he was feeling unwell and on the verge of fitting for evermore, but unlike last night, he actually went and had a fit. In fact, he had many. One of which was in front of an 8-person long queue. He walked off, while I dealt with the customers.

What he could of been doing is anyone's guess. Flushing his own head down the toilet maybe or ... I don't know, ripping up boxes of crisps in the warehouse or throwing darts at a life-size model of Jesus? He could of been doing anything, but luckily, all he was doing was walking around, shouting and strangely clutching his hamstring. I've never seen him do that before, maybe he had cramp? Whatever he was feeling, it wasn't good, and after he had come round, he could do nothing but sit in a chair and bow his head. In shame, hopefully. He spoke a few words after about 15 minutes...

"Call an ambulance".

Sure. Why not. I called the ambulance, that amazingly turned into the garage precisely 30 seconds later and after they did a quick check up they took him away. Rule Number 1) No employee shall work on his own at night.

Yep. The rule book was thrown straight out of the window. To be honest, the rule book was thrown out of the window ever since they hired The Wall in the first place. So, for 4 hours I was on my own. Which was half good, half bad. It meant I didn't have to put up with the periless groaning of His Wallness and put up with his failure at being a human being but it was bad, because I still had a lot to do. And it's difficult to get it all done with 2, let alone 1.

However, drunk customers were, strangely, few and far between tonight. I managed to get everything done in good time before Legend Alex the Manager turned up at 5:45.

"Where is he?"

I told him the story plus the fact I had been here on my own since 2:15, mentioning the golden rule as I told him, and I got a single response.

"I don't think he's lasting much longer".

Really though? You said that last time and sod all has happened since then. I'm not letting you know of my thoughts of the situation for the 135th time so I'll get on with it. Strangely, the thoughts of the ultimatum did enter my head, but I still didn't have the bottle to tell him what was really going on in my head. I'm not sure it was all bad anyway. Maybe it will be him that leaves instead of me...

In my few hours of freedom, I managed to speak to a tired-sounding Beddoe and still receive updates on another majestic day for England in the 2nd Ashes Test and even the Geordie guy who delivers the papers was so late that I didn't have to stay and do the 2nd instalment of the ghastly weekend papers.

Tonight then, on paper, should of been catastrophic. But as I stepped into my car at a record time of 6:08am, I thought to myself...

"I still feel crap. But boy, I sort of enjoyed that"

Cya x