You Are In A Queue...

Having failed to get Cycling World Cup tickets via British Cycling on Tuesday I’m online at bang on 10am this morning to snag some the moment they go on sale to the general public, unfortunately via the incredibly clunky system that is Ticketmaster. After a ‘you are in a queue - waiting time eight minutes’ message I am informed, around eight minutes later, that they’re all sold out.

So having not missed a Cycling World Cup for three years, I won’t be at this one. I'm beginning to hate the Olympics. Unlike the Olympic Stadium itself the new velodrome is supposed to be for life, not just for the Olympics, so one wonders why they didn't they build one with more seating?

After that perhaps I could have done with something stronger than my first ever 2.7% beer at lunchtime. 2.7%? Why? You ask. The government has reduced beer duty for beers of 2.8% strength and below in an attempt to persuade us to not get ratted every night on Special Brew. A worthy aim but one that will only work if the beers taste good. So what does Everards’ Southgate Bitter taste like... well, water. So I’m afraid I’m going to stick to something with at least a 4 on the front.

It does mean that I’m sober enough to give Daughter a cookery lesson by email this afternoon.

‘Shoot me now...’ It sounds like L’s having a ‘great’ time in London, where she is for work. ‘Chill some nice white wine for me and I'll be forever grateful. Just leave a straw by the bottle.’ Yep a great time. I dutiful put the wine in the fridge as requested because I like the sound of forever grateful.

Another committee meeting tonight and for once it’s a good one. A small majority group of us voted everything that moved down and despite starting half an hour late still finished at around 9pm. Which means I can get back to Nottingham in time to pick a girl up off Ilkeston Road and bring her home to devil my kidneys. I think that’s what she said they were called.

(Thursday 17th November)

One Page Is Often Enough

L thinks I’m abandoning her tonight. Leaving her all alone in the house with my prize winning ex-favourite author. She’s struggling her way through Ian McEwan’s ‘Solar’, winner of Bollinger Everyman Wodehouse Prize for Comic Fiction 2010. Although L hates prize winning books, they usually turn out to be rubbish. She reckons she has 19 pages to do tonight, whilst throwing someone's plastic bone and remaining AF. I’m sure that, as usual, I’ll come home and find her asleep with Ian strewn across her lap muttering that one page was enough.

I’m out with a couple of old school friends tonight. We have a few beers in the Brunswick and the Alex before going for a Mexican. A Mexican meal which is ok and a Mexican beer ‘Desperados’ that isn’t. The waiter does try and persuade us not to have one, he says he wouldn’t touch it himself but we didn’t listen. It’s ‘a taste of liberty’ you know, comes flavoured with tequila and is 5.9% ABV. Yes, we should have known better.



It doesn’t help that it is served just in its bottle with a slice of lime in the top. The lime is always a bad sign, a sign that they’re trying to hide something, like the taste. The bottle doesn’t help either; you simply don’t get the taste of a beer straight out the neck of a bottle. So, we have to apologise for not being ‘cool’ and ask for a glass each. Once we get it into a glass, we realise why the manufacturers don’t wish you to get the taste of the thing and why they serve it with lime too. It also turns out to be made in France... so it wasn't very Mexican either.

I get home to find L awake, although not with her hands on Ian but watching TV instead. Clearly avoiding her reading duties but about to pour herself a very large whisky, so perhaps she’s not got round to it yet.

As I’m slightly sloshed, despite the attempts of the ‘Desperados’ to keep me sober, she waves a Langdale 10K entry form my way and asks for a signature. This is our usual technique for talking each other into races, although I’m quite keen to do this one. It’s only a fiver, as compensation for them cancelling the Christmas one on us.

Our race packs for Sunday have finally arrived, which is a relief, but it still all seems a bit ‘last minute’. It says on Facebook that the t-shirts were late arriving from Germany which is why they were late being sent off. A British t-shirt next year perhaps? We are still, however, waiting for our car parking pass which apparently was only sent out this morning, first class but first class sometimes takes several days... so fingers crossed.

(Wednesday 16th March)