It was one of those things that my Father failed to tell me, such as not to be an arse and to keep salacious texts to myself. It was the Bank Holiday Weekend and I had determined to ride up to Epping Forest to do some foraging, with a halt at Tesco on the way to buy some Tom Yam noodles - as one does. The day was warm, and I decided that, as I was mainly off-road, I wouldn't bother with my helmet, I also decided that, seeing as I was going to do a fair distance, I would wear my cycling shorts. I left, shutting the door behind me, and leaping onto my trusty steed prior to dusting up the towpath.

At Tesco, I parked the bike and realised with a sinking heart that I was keyless, and therefore soon to be noodleless. However, I hatched a cunning plan and approached the nice lady holding leaflets and sporting a tee shirt with "Double" written on it, it should have had "Double Points" written on it but the "Points" had vanished into the shadow of her knockers. I raised my chin a couple of inches and made eye contact, "I wonder if you'd mind just keeping an eye on my bike while I go and buy a lock. Please?"
"Alright. Just put it in there."
"Thanks!"

I beetled to the bike section, not one bloody lock to be seen, eventually I found a light and lock set but decided I hardly needed any more lights. At this point I must have lost my presence of mind for I decided to go on to Epping.

The Logic: The neighbours have a spare key, if they're not in I have the spare set at work.

And so it was that I spent the afternoon getting mauled by blackberries, before a slight accidental detour on the way home, anyway I arrived and rang the neighbour's doorbell where "Auntie" let me in with a "Welcome Nick".

I explained my plight, to which she responded, "What are you going to do?"

"You've got a spare set."
"Oh I don't know where they've put them and they're in Pontin's with the kids. I'll give them a ring.
"Thanks!"
"They're not answering."
"Oh well, I'll get the set from work."

I remounted and went to work where a very nice security man called Maurice let me in, I couldn't find them!

"Oh well, let's hope Tony's answered his 'phone by now."

He hadn't.

"Oh well, I'll 'phone round and see if someone can put me up." The 'phone was on charge in the flat, the locked flat.

"Oh well, I'll spend a fortune with directory enquiries, who will have no 'phone numbers due to franchising." They didn't or they couldn't read, probably the latter.

"Oh well, I'll get something to eat and see if Tony's answered his 'phone when I get back." He hadn't.

"Oh well, I'd better find an hotel." I did - it Cost.

The girl (Carla) behind the counter was very nice and gave me an hours free internet, enabling me to find some 'phone numbers, now too late to do anything with. No-one in the hotel seemed the least fazed by this bicycling-clad figure sans bike. I claimed my free toothbrush and razor (and cotton-buds and a shower cap) and went to the pub up the road for a pint, or, in fact two pints. I went to bed, as I took my spectacles off the arm detached itself and fell, fortunately the screw landed in plain sight on the desktop, my luck had obviously changed.

Moral: If you decide not to wear your helmet, make sure that you take out the keys that live inside it so that you don't forget them. If wearing your cycling shorts, remember to transfer the keys that live in the back pocket of your other shorts to your cycling shorts. If your Brother has been for a visit, remember to take the spare set of keys that live in work (so you'll have a stopgap plus a set of keys to lend to people) back to work. Do not rely on your neighbours being in, and do not rely on "Auntie" to be psychic. 'Phones can be quite handy (as can address books) when they're not closeted behind locked doors. The people in Directory Enquiries are pants and cannot be relied upon, neither can spectacles but if you have the bits you can repair them with a penknife using a coffee-sachet strip with a hole in it as a pair of makeshift tweezers. London hotels are not cheap. The beer at the Marksman is just about alright - but only just.


I got in the next day, and sulked for the afternoon.

It was one of those things that my Father failed to tell me about, like the fact that if you're unlucky - you're stuffed!

I had forgotten that there is no intonation in text or e-mail, perhaps there should be a "tic" for tongue-in-cheek or similar icon. Sadly there isn't, so I have been hoist by my own petard on a couple of occasions now, by the simple fact that after I'd pressed the "send" button, the receiver took me seriously. My Father never had these problems, he was limited to full-frontal conversations, 'phone conversations and (the closest) letter writing, though I doubt that, "Here I am surrounded by bluebells, now all I need is a naked girl. Volunteer?" is anything that would have (overtly) crossed his mind, let alone stopped and jumped up and down in front of it.

Those that know me well replied, "No, what you need is a cold shower." those that didn't know me quite as well as I thought they did lapsed into a stunned and lengthy silence. That's the other thing about texts, they don't come with anything that says, "Oh by the way, I sent this to five other people which might lead you to believe that I wasn't being serious.

My last gaffe read, "I'm lying in bed naked. Wish you were here?", perhaps not the most sensible of things to send, I could plead Saturday morning leftovers of Friday night's alchohol - but I won't. Suffice it to say that I haven't heard from several recipients since (apart from one outraged reply). Golly, in my bonhomminous state I thought the question mark (and ancillary punctuation) might make it obvious but sadly no - apologies.

I am sort of reminded of the pilot who inadvertently texted the stewardess with a message to his wife, "I can't wait for you to go down on me." Thank God it was not from his wife to him, the implications could be catastrophic.

Moral: don't be an arse and keep salacious texts to yourself.