I missed my usual 07:40 train this morning through my own Monday morning silliness. Halfway through the morning drive I looked in my wallet for my parking pass. It wasn't in its usual slot, so I assumed I'd left it at home. I quickly spun the car around and drove back to the house to retrieve the pass. However, a frantic 5-minute search in my room yielded no pass or any clues as to where it might be.
I'm then hit with a sinking feeling...
The Queensgate Customer Service desk closes at 5:30 pm, so the only day I can pop into the shopping centre and apply for a replacement pass is Thursday when the it is open till 8 pm. Until then, I'd have to use the station carpark and pay the princely sum of £10 a day for the privilege. A £40 sting just for misplacing my pass is not the kind of crotch punch one needs on a Monday morning.
I dashed back to the car and was about to hit ignition when I realised I'd left my wallet in the house. As I grabbed my wallet I wondered why it felt bulkier than normal - I'm not the kind of chap who carries a wad of cash around. Upon closer inspection I found two very badly folded £10 notes in the hidden pocket....along with my pass. Cue a flashback from Saturday evening... It was just after the England game and I was at the pub where I'd had my fair share of Ireland's finest export. As I cack-handedly paid for the next round of drinks, I emptied most of my wallet onto the pub floor. Rather than put it all neatly back in its place, I just stuffed my belongings in wherever it fitted. Hence the money origami and pass in the last place I'd think to look.
Of course, by this time I knew I wasn't going to make the 07:40 without some pretty reckless driving. So, I resigned myself to a trip on the never-on-time 07:46. The train journey itself was uneventful, though I did have one of those moments where one wakes up from a snooze with a sudden jolt and a gormless expression. Naturally, this prompted some funny looks from the other passengers.
It could have been worse - I might have knocked my magma hot coffee over my lap and hard-boiled the family jewels in front of a very pretty lady. That, however, is another story...
I popped into a packed Starbucks for an expensive coffee and something to eat once I'd made it into the City.
If I was going to be late, I was going to do it with style...












