My bank card has for some reason been blocked and I cannot leave with my friends today until it’s been sorted. I’m forced to learn how to use Skype to make numerous phone calls to my banks fraud department, where I eventually convince some chap I’m not running around South America racking up huge bills, spending wildly and frittering money away. Even though that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Thanks to a horrible wine hangover I desperately need water when I open my eyes. Peering through half shut eyelids and smelling my own wood mouth breath, I croak for the fridge key.
“Stuart, Stuart, Stuart”, the girl behind the desk shakes her head.
“Yes?” I manage.
“You’ve been misbehaving haven’t you?”
I’m then told off for my antics last night, and informed that I have “been good up until now”. Furthermore there is to be no more guitar.
How old am I? Are you my Mum? Have I suddenly been sent back to school? Only my desperate desire for H20 stops me from firing back some cheeky retort, but I’m tempted to write a harshly worded letter in the strongest terms. I’m not really. I just go back to bed with my tail between my legs after a groveling apology and promising it will never happen again.
Misbehaving
My bank card has for some reason been blocked and I cannot leave with my friends today until it’s been sorted. I’m forced to learn how to use Skype to make numerous phone calls to my banks fraud department, where I eventually convince some chap I’m not running around South America racking up huge bills, spending wildly and frittering money away. Even though that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Thanks to a horrible wine hangover I desperately need water when I open my eyes. Peering through half shut eyelids and smelling my own wood mouth breath, I croak for the fridge key.
“Stuart, Stuart, Stuart”, the girl behind the desk shakes her head.
“Yes?” I manage.
“You’ve been misbehaving haven’t you?”
I’m then told off for my antics last night, and informed that I have “been good up until now”. Furthermore there is to be no more guitar.
How old am I? Are you my Mum? Have I suddenly been sent back to school? Only my desperate desire for H20 stops me from firing back some cheeky retort, but I’m tempted to write a harshly worded letter in the strongest terms. I’m not really. I just go back to bed with my tail between my legs after a groveling apology and promising it will never happen again.