Oh yes. Remember that key-loss episode a few months ago? Well now I can go one better.
I had a plan last night. A cunning plan. So cunning, in fact that you could tie a piece of string to it and use it as a kite. Yes, really. It was really that cunning.
The plan was this: Go to Woolies for Dude and a DVD
Stead was in London until 2.30. He was then planning to catch the train home, arrive back in Bristol at around 4.30 and return to his house, where he would get changed.
I was in the office as normal. I planned to return home at the normal time, returning at round 5pm, whereupon I, too would get changed. I then planned to do my 'training', phone the 'Dude' (remember him?), nip over to Stead's to pick him up, collect said Dude at 7.30 and head over to the Woolie's where we would rendezvous with the Vicster and, obviously, the Woolies.
A stellar plan. Excelling in it's simplicity.
Sadly it all went horribly wrong. And here's how.
At around 5pm, I received a call from Stead, who was still in London. "I'm not gonna be back 'til 7.30," he whined.
Ok. A minor setback. But no biggie. I'll get Vic to pick up the Dude. Of course, that means nipping over to her house to provide cash. Free cuppa. No problem. I'll just be picking Stead up a little later.
Whilst at the Vicster's however, my cleverly reorganised plans came crashing down around me. At around 6.10 he was on the phone again. "C*ck!" he exclaimed. I feel it's important to quote him exactly at this point. Sorry if it gets offensive. "C*ck," he said again, before following up with a "C*ckweasels!".
There was obviously something he needed to get of his chest.
"I'm on the train," he told me (I'm not quoting any more - this is kinda from memory and may or may not be accurate). "I've left my c*cking keys in London. I can't get into my car or my house."
"No problem," says I. "You were clever enough to instigate a contingency plan for this very reason, a few months ago. I have a set of keys for your house in my kitchen drawer." Confident that all would be well, I set off to collect him from the station (a little earlier than planned).
Upon reaching my house, it became obvious that Stead's contingency plan had on weak point.
Me.
I'm positive that I put the keys in my kitchen drawer. That's where all the keys go. All of them. My mothers keys are in there. My spare car keys are in there. My Gran's key, the window keys, the gerden box padlock keys... yup. They're all in there too. there were even a few unidentified keys squirreled away at the back. But Stead's. Not a chance.
So. Unable to access either Stead's house or his car until at least Friday, it became neccessary to accomodate him at my house. A sleepover, if you will. Sadly, he had only the clothes in which he was dressed. No change of underwear, no toiletries. Nothing. So - in true bloke style, a mad dash to Marks & Spencer ensured, whereupon a new shirt, socks, underpants, toothbrush, razor etc were purchased.
We finally arrived at the Woolies' just 20 minutes late. Not bad. We watched The Bourne Supremacy, which was pretty good and had a very cool car chase. Much pizza, tea, beer and cola products were consumed and a good time was had by all.
Interesting development on the free Star Wars ticket front yesterday, as well. Simon the Temp - who promised me a ticket for tonight's show right before he got sacked, and then came up with the goods like a true hero - phoned me to say that he was in Nottingham. Training with the TA for his trip to Kabul (although where you get desert training in Nottingham is beyond me). Anyway the upshot is that he can't make it tonight. But, star that he is, he's getting a mate to drop the ticket into the office some time this morning. So hopefully I will have a spare (and more importantly, FREE) ticket to Star Wars which i can give to Stead to make up for the key issue.
It's gonna be great.
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