Missed out

The joys of shift work. K was up in town today, an impromptu visit on her part through finding herself at a loose end, not having much uni work this week after finishing her first second year module last Friday. But I didn't get the chance to see her, because I was on lates. Thanks a lot, the roster clerk. There are a number of reasons I'd happily retire yesterday, if finances permitted, but the freedom to 'do my own thing' is absolutely paramount amongst them. I've been a bloody wage slave far too long.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Gigging-on-Sea

When I finished work yesterday, it was off to 'uni-town' to meet up with K and see a band I've been a fan of literally for decades, but who I'd never had the chance to see live before. It was a thoroughly good do, but, as ever, the highlight of the trip was being able to see my girl and share some quality time. Like so many things in my life, such get-togethers are very much a double-edged sword - I love spending time with K, but, in the aftermath, I'm reminded all too painfully how much I miss having her around.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Too much

My new regular Wetherspoons is really pissing me off. Not the pub per se, but the current clientele. For a Wednesday, it's ridiculously raucous, most notably a group of females about six feet away who don't appear to be able to do anything other than shout. And that's before I even start on a cutie I used to see in here when I was last in 'domicille-ville', too young then but smack in the middle of my AoA now, giving me palpitations every time I walked past him before he left about an hour ago. I'm going to go to Waitrose momentarily, buy something nice for supper, then go back to my garret and lick my figurative wounds. At least I'm going to see K tomorrow, so all is not yet lost.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Back on a certain train

When I was living in 'domicile-ville' before, I wrote a few times about the train I often caught when I finished night shifts - 'the boys' school train'. It was regularly fertile ground for 'eye candy' on weekdays, not something that I objected to in the slightest. Well, this morning marked my first journey on that train since February 2014, and it was a case of 'the same, but different'. There were still a goodly number of cute boys in their various school uniforms, but there also seemed to be far more girls travelling than there ever were a few years back Maybe there's been an adjustment in school start times, or something along those lines. Whatever the case, the opportunity to 'enjoy the view' is one small plus in regard to my recent move, albeit set against the numerous minuses of not living 'in town' anymore.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

More of the same sadnesses

I stayed in London last night, because I couldn't get to work on time from 'domicile-ville' this morning - the first of the infamous 'rail replacement bus services' would've made me almost half an hour late - and the cheapest place I could find within commutable distance was out near Heathrow. As is my wont, I checked out where the nearest Wetherspoons was, and it proved to be one I hadn't patronised before. I settled into a quietish corner - the pub was fairly busy for a late afternoon/early evening - and perused the menu for evening meal options. But then he arrived. Perfection. 11/12, fair-haired, all boy. And spent the best part of two hours sitting ten bloody feet away, with, as I soon worked out from conversation, his grandfather. I was in love within minutes, but, of course, those ten feet might as well have been the width of the Pacific, because, given that I'm nothing if not a realist, I knew that was as close as I'd ever get to him. And then his mother turned up to collect him, and he was gone. My heart ached, almost literally. But that wasn't even the first knife twisted in my psyche of yesterday. As I was leaving 'worktown' at lunchtime, I glimpsed a little boy, maybe 4, who looked very much like DBJ, or, at least, how I would've imagined him looking at that age. It wasn't the 'little pretty' that was the problem, it was my memories of the boy, the be-all and end-all. Not, as I've said, even a boy anymore, in reality, but seared into my mind forever. I wouldn't be at all surprised if his face is in my consciousness as I take my dying breath.
Then, much more prosaically, as I walked from the hotel to the bus stop to head for work, it occurred to me that today was the first day since March 1 2014 that I didn't have a valid TfL bus pass - my last Travelcard expired at 0430 this morning, and I was back on good old 'pay as you go'. Trivial in itself, but another reminder that I don't live in London anymore. Life, all of it, dragging me down.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B