| The Warky Report: International Break (up) (h) 11:48 - Sep 5 with 676 views | Warkystache |
"So ah'm jus' doin' it as a favour, like". Nine badly spoken words in a crowded pub last night that supposedly justified Tel's new employment opportunity. More in a mo.
Firstly, some news. Regular readers of this may remember Paula. She used to be Tel's assistant when he had the newsagent's. She's been missing in action from these reports for some time, mainly due to the fact that she married a snake-eyed tosser called Blake and then became something in Retail Management for a couple of supermarkets dotted around the south of Essex. And so, as happens, she faded out.
Until Tel had a telephone call on Tuesday from her, asking him if he could meet her for a coffee and a chat at one of the local cafe's (not his old shop though, which became a coffee place as that's been shut and abandoned for a few months. It's on the market, which is something else I'll come to in a mo. Sorry to prevaricate but this needs telling properly). "Yer can imagine me s'prise" he said nonchalantly. "Fought I'd deleted 'er number yonks ago".
So he went, and in short, Blake's been playing away from home with a Polish girl he met at his work. No more details. Tel's not one for storytelling. He couldn't embellish the Rokeby Venus. He'd be too busy trying to see how they nailed the canvas to the frame.
Anyway, Blake's two big mistakes appear to be a) having an affair and b) being caught by his wife having an affair. Details were sketchy as to how he was caught. Tel muttered something about "phone calls". He'd be rubbish at writing a problem for Dear Deirdre. You want the salacious bits otherwise it's all a bit dull.
So Paula has moved back home with her mum, who has apparently welcomed her with open arms. She's currently deputy-managing a branch of Morrisons in the outer-London bit of Essex so her commute to work has just increased exponentially, although Tel thought this was ephemeral to the plot, partly due to the fact that, as I'll mention in a minute, he's now driving a delivery van all around East Anglia and the South East again.
"Fank gawd they never 'ad kids" said Tel, piously. "She's lookin' a bit drawn, like, an' she's 'ad twenny-odd texts from 'im sayin' he wants 'er back, but you knar 'er, she's stubborn in't'she? I noo it'd end like this. Always sed it ter you, the wife....". Erm, no he didn't. He always thought they'd be married for life. "She's started smokin' again n'all. Told 'er yer don't need that, luv, not all that agin. But she don't lissen ter me. Never 'as. Puffin' away outside she was. Like a navvy".
That was the end of the story. Partly through lack of more details, partly because Tel is as good a listener as I am an international playboy. Mostly though because, as usual, Tel had more pertinent personal news to impart and he is nothing if not singular.
"So Mick rang me, bloke who used to be the transport manager fer that firm I drove for last year, you remember?. So 'e goes 'Orlright Tel, had a few drivers let me darn 'cos they've been offered more dough by the big boys for HGV Class Two work. 'Ave yer still got yer digi Tacho?' an' o'course I do an' I'm at a loose end at the moment, what wiv the 'oliday bein' cancelled an' that. So I've said yes, an' I did me first deliv'ry on Thursdy". He broke off to sip his pint, a gleam of triumph and pride etched on his face.
I had an inkling he was looking to get back into the labour force when he mentioned last Monday that his old shop was back on the market. I knew it'd shut because I still sometimes drove past it. I thought it was a temporary thing due to Covid until I saw builders' tools through the window and yet nothing seemed to happen. If it was a refit, it was taking an eon to sort out.
"Nah. She's sellin' it" said Tel when I mentioned this to him last week. "She called me, abart two weeks ago, just as a courtesy she said, although.." (here he moved in closer and tapped his nose and spoke in what he thinks is a whisper) .."'tween you me an' the missus, I reckon she was castin' fer a bite, see if I'd fancy makin' an offer, like. Well she was disappointed, like. She wants more'n she paid forrit an' it'd need me payin' to put it back 'ow I'd wannit. An me an' the missus are too old for all that again". He said this last part as a sort of hopeful statement, hoping I'd say 'No you're not'. When I didn't, his face fell a bit. But he's right. He is too old. He's been out of the game for two years and, as you know, he used to moan incessantly about the early starts and the late finishes and the working 7 days a week.
So it got put on the back burner and now he's landed a new (old) job driving deliveries around, working 35 hour weeks and earning a fair whack for his trouble. He likes his new van-mate, a bloke called Danny who, unlike his predecessors in the role, doesn't eat fast food, fart in the cabin, need stops for a piss or talk endless waffle. I have met Danny as he dropped Tel at the pub on Saturday following his third shift. He's got today and Monday off. Danny was as talkative as a Rodin statue; a bald forty-five year old divorcee who sees his two teenaged sons regularly and doesn't drink or smoke, as Tel told me as Danny looked on passively. We shook hands. I wondered if he did drugs, to make up for the lack of other vices. "Nah" said Tel. "Straight as a die, 'e is. Drinks tea or water, or the occasional diet Coke". It's those ones you have to be wary of.
So he's back. Back into the groove of a regular wage and delivering non-edible household goods, garden ware and whatever else they get given to households and businesses around the great expanse of the East. I should be happy for him. He seems happy enough after all. But there's this nagging doubt somewhere....
No Town games due to the World Cup qualifiers. Still, you knew that already. Boring innit? I'm even contemplating weeding the garden this afternoon. All the other household chores were done yesterday, to the sounds of the '80's via Absolute radio. 'Shout, shout, let it all out' sang Curt Smith as I dusted the lounge. And he's right in a sense. These were the things I could do without. But still, they make life a bit less samey. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. |  |
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| The Warky Report: International Break (up) (h) on 12:07 - Sep 5 with 613 views | Ftnfwest |
Well if Tel didn’t know Blake was a badun, I did and I’ve never even met the bloke! |  | | |
| The Warky Report: International Break (up) (h) on 13:56 - Sep 5 with 543 views | EdwardStone |
Usually your match reprts contain a tiny but of football, occasionally you attend a match and give a brief summary but this is a new high.....a match report with the football not even on
Bravo....Formidable, Monsieur |  | | |
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