I got up at 6.00am, as usual, had my breakfast (today it was Coco Pops), and left the house at 7.00am on the dot. I arrived at work at 8.05am, which is earlier than usual. This was because the times of my trains were such that as soon as I arrived on my platform, my train semed to arrive a few seconds later, & I spent little time waiting. I like it when mathematical events conspire to make you early. It's like the logistical fates are wishing you well.
Erica is one of the secretaries who works here. Not my secretary - the position I hold is too junior to warrant a secretary. She works for one of the senior accountants who works on the top floor of the office building. I work on the second floor.
I had a sandwich for lunch. Prawn Mayonnaise. I read The Telegraph while I had my sandwich, sitting on a park bench a few minutes walk from my office. I spent less time than usual having my lunch because I had a lot of work to do today - there were a lot of figures for me to check. But I managed to finish all my work before I left.
I think of Erica when I'm alone sometimes. I know that she barely notices me. But sometimes she says hello to me, & sometimes we have a conversation. This makes me happy. Today we talked about one of the senior partners at the firm, a man named Jack Fincher. He is retiring at the end of the week. She said that she thought it was sad that the office was loosing someone who was as pleasant and as nice as Mr. Fincher. I agreed. I have never met Jack Fincher.
On my way home from my bus stop I walked back home the long way. I didn't skirt past the filth that was beginning to fill the streets again, but instead I threw myself right into the middle of all the drug users, prostitutes and lowlifes. I felt too clean. I wanted to feel unclean. I bumped into an old aquaintance called Annie. I've been seeing Annie on & off for the best part of a year now. I don't much like Annie, but I like the disraction that she provides me, if only for 20 minutes. She took me back to her squalid house & we had sex. Then I left.
As my conversation with Erica was coming to a close, she mentionned that there would be a retirement party for Mr. Fincher this Friday night. She asked me if I was going. She said that I should come. At first I didn't know what to say. But then I said that I would come. I'm looking forward to Friday now. And I'm looking forward to speaking with Erica again.