Tom’s still a’hurtin’
And so it continues.
A phone call yesterday morning - this time at 8.30am. I’d barely even put the toast on.
"Well?" he says.
"Well what?" I reply. "Tell me Tom, why can’t we start these conversations like you normally do? What’s wrong with your usual, "Hello Mr Coles how’s it going?"?"
"Well. You’ve been taking the mickey out of me for using that line so I thought I’d try something new."
Yes, dear reader. It’s Idle Tom the Publisher again - calling up for our early morning chat.
"What do you want anyway Tom?" I asked. "Why have you started pestering me so early in the morning?"
"Well -"
"You’re still after that date with Susan, Damian’s mum, aren’t you? Well - you know what Tom? I’ve done nothing about it!"
"What?"
"Yes. Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander! I’ve done absolutely nothing! How does that feel?"
"A bit gutting."
"OK," I said. "I’ll sort it out. When’s good for you this week?"
"Try me."
"Can you make Thursday night?"
"Yes."
"How about Friday?"
"I can do it."
"And the weekend?"
"I’m free."
"That’s good - in fact … I like it. So is there any day you can’t make in the next month?"
"Ummm - pretty much clear, apart from Wednesday fortnight at 10.30 in the morning. I’ve got an appointment with the dentist. But apart from that … my diary’s free." A slight pause for thought. "Though if Susan really wants to see me then, I could definitely cancel …"