I dun boobed...
Tuesday, October 30th, 2007 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanWhen it works the postal system is a wondrous thing.
I arrived home tonight after a badly fluffed attempt to meet![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drjohnsilence (of which more later), to find my box set of Stargate SG-1 season 9 awaiting me, together with the replacement copy of The Beatles Live at the BBC, a nice new watch courtesy of Amex reward points and, for Furtle, the new Queen Live in Montreal CD. Prezzies all round, hurrah! I am now just waiting for my copy of NWO Transylvania to turn up, though I suspect that ity is lost for ever in the great chasm that was the postal strike. Not sure what, if anything, I can do about that...
Furtle and I were late home. We met up outside Victoria Station and disappeared off the The Willow Walk for a pint and a meal while I awaited a phone call fromdrjohnsilence so we could meet him for a BEER or two ahead of his flight back to the States tomorrow.
Well, that was what was happening in thecaddyman world anyway. The real world re-established contact with me around 8pm as we were on the Tube heading north, just outside Woodside Park station. The phone rang and a puzzled voice said that he thought we were supposed to meet up for a drink... "Ah, says I, but you didn't call me to say where we should meet!". "We arranged the Royal Oak at around 6.30" says he. And as I am denying it and he is asserting the truth of it, that old dusty memory kicks in and that familiar sinking feeling accompanies it. He's right, I am wrong. And it's too late and too far away to do anything about it.
Sometime on Wednesday I shall have to make a phone call Stateside and describe the size and taste of the portion of humble pie I shall be eating... It's not as if we're in the same hemisphere very often, let alone the same country, much less the same city.
What a pratt. But not deliberately so.
I arrived home tonight after a badly fluffed attempt to meet
drjohnsilence (of which more later), to find my box set of Stargate SG-1 season 9 awaiting me, together with the replacement copy of The Beatles Live at the BBC, a nice new watch courtesy of Amex reward points and, for Furtle, the new Queen Live in Montreal CD. Prezzies all round, hurrah! I am now just waiting for my copy of NWO Transylvania to turn up, though I suspect that ity is lost for ever in the great chasm that was the postal strike. Not sure what, if anything, I can do about that...Furtle and I were late home. We met up outside Victoria Station and disappeared off the The Willow Walk for a pint and a meal while I awaited a phone call from
drjohnsilence so we could meet him for a BEER or two ahead of his flight back to the States tomorrow.Well, that was what was happening in the
caddyman world anyway. The real world re-established contact with me around 8pm as we were on the Tube heading north, just outside Woodside Park station. The phone rang and a puzzled voice said that he thought we were supposed to meet up for a drink... "Ah, says I, but you didn't call me to say where we should meet!". "We arranged the Royal Oak at around 6.30" says he. And as I am denying it and he is asserting the truth of it, that old dusty memory kicks in and that familiar sinking feeling accompanies it. He's right, I am wrong. And it's too late and too far away to do anything about it.Sometime on Wednesday I shall have to make a phone call Stateside and describe the size and taste of the portion of humble pie I shall be eating... It's not as if we're in the same hemisphere very often, let alone the same country, much less the same city.
What a pratt. But not deliberately so.
