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Come, friendly bombs...

Just before I left Waller World for Queer City, (my last abode) I spent an evening with my flatmates and their friends watching The Office, which is something of a hit here. I did my best to describe the horrors of Slough, remembering a job I did (in one of my previous incarnations, last century) at Slough Police station, advising two teenaged delinquents in my role as a solicitor's representative for "specialist solicitors"Wainwright & Cummins (they specialize in everything). I commented to the group of Office-watchers that the best thing about that job in Slough was the travel; from central or east London via Paddington inevitably took at least an hour each way, and I got paid £11 per hour travel. So I'd look at my watch every 15 minutes and think "good - that was a G&T!" or some stronger and more long-lasting substance, back then.

Anyway, the point of this story IS - my dear friend Donella has found herself in Slough, working. Like all of us, she seeks happiness and avoids misery. This is a tough job down there. If any of you can spare a warm thought, a spark of bliss, a moment of wishing happiness for someone you do or don't know - please send it to her in Slough, now.


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