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Oct. 6th, 2008 11:16 pmMiserable morning. Not only had I got blocked last night by an e-pal I really liked, but my cold, despite being into its second week, obstinately refuses to bugger off. The blocked nose is uncomfortable enough, but today the gunk in my throat cut my speech off while I was interviewing on two separate occasions. Of course, it was inevitable that in mid-morning I'd get a Mr Angry who, despite him and his wife both being elderly and therefore having very short questionnaires, and despite the fact that this would have been the last time for them, flatly refused to do this one last survey, giving me a yelled earful into the bargain - and eventually revealing that he'd just had an unwelcome call from British Gas. So we just get lumped together.
It was ironic that, soon after, Jo invited me to go down to the Map Room for a talk given by someone from the company that took over providing our welfare services a few weeks ago. By now I was feeling more in need of using their services than listening to a presentation about them. But it was a good talk and got me off the phones for three quarters of an hour.
Went to Westleigh Park this evening to see the Academy boys take on Hamworthy in the FA Youth Cup. Keri and Trudi from the ladies' team were outside when I arrived at the ground and said hello, but the frustrations of the day continued in the clubhouse. The barmaid - not the one who normally serves on matchdays - gave me a Carlsberg when I asked for a Kopparberg (a pear cider) and I only found out when I took a mouthful. I couldn't give it back having had a swig, so had to drink the whole vile pint, though I did point out the barmaid's mistake to her. She seemed completely dull and uninterested. There was nobody I knew in the bar, just a bunch of lairy Pompey fans playing darts. I've never felt so unwelcome in my own football club. And I wasted a quid in the juke box; I had trouble getting the screen to respond to my touch, but while I finally got it to register five of my choices it didn't matter as a big backlog of songs played and it soon became clear that I had more chance of seeing Lord Lucan riding Shergar through the streets of Brigadoon than of hearing one of my tracks before kick-off.
So I made my way into the ground, where at least the familiar faces of Malc, Simon and Tracey were there to say hello and the lovely smell of Westlers hot dogs drew me to the tea bar like a magnet. The game was OK, our lads won 3-1, though it petered out for the last 10 minutes when Hamworthy scored their consolation.
Long walk back to the station. 15 minute wait for a train.
It was ironic that, soon after, Jo invited me to go down to the Map Room for a talk given by someone from the company that took over providing our welfare services a few weeks ago. By now I was feeling more in need of using their services than listening to a presentation about them. But it was a good talk and got me off the phones for three quarters of an hour.
Went to Westleigh Park this evening to see the Academy boys take on Hamworthy in the FA Youth Cup. Keri and Trudi from the ladies' team were outside when I arrived at the ground and said hello, but the frustrations of the day continued in the clubhouse. The barmaid - not the one who normally serves on matchdays - gave me a Carlsberg when I asked for a Kopparberg (a pear cider) and I only found out when I took a mouthful. I couldn't give it back having had a swig, so had to drink the whole vile pint, though I did point out the barmaid's mistake to her. She seemed completely dull and uninterested. There was nobody I knew in the bar, just a bunch of lairy Pompey fans playing darts. I've never felt so unwelcome in my own football club. And I wasted a quid in the juke box; I had trouble getting the screen to respond to my touch, but while I finally got it to register five of my choices it didn't matter as a big backlog of songs played and it soon became clear that I had more chance of seeing Lord Lucan riding Shergar through the streets of Brigadoon than of hearing one of my tracks before kick-off.
So I made my way into the ground, where at least the familiar faces of Malc, Simon and Tracey were there to say hello and the lovely smell of Westlers hot dogs drew me to the tea bar like a magnet. The game was OK, our lads won 3-1, though it petered out for the last 10 minutes when Hamworthy scored their consolation.
Long walk back to the station. 15 minute wait for a train.
