So, yeah, I'm having a little bit of a hard time typing this, my fingers are going a bit numb but whatever. I can't disappoint my fans can I? I mean, you need to know this stuff, right?
I was in at eight this morning which I think is pretty good given that Francine only let me go at four. But, you know, a couple of sniffs, yeah? So I'm logging in and all I see is my hotmail going mad, not with the usual dick spam, not that I need it, well, a few purple triangles every now and then come in handy, but no, from this bird I met last week. She's sent me a hundred fucking emails about having lunch and there's something she's got to tell me. And I'm thinking “lock up the bunny” but, you know, I have a pretty good morning. I've got this thing going with some Thai futures that's really pretty nice at the moment. I reckon I deserve a long lunch, and she was fucking hot, so I give her a call on her mobile to meet her at Smiths.
When I turn up I'm buzzing off the morning's events, and I see her there in this absolutely fantastic little blue corset dress thing, it's cold outside but she's definitely made an effort. I sit down and start to chat, hello, how are you doing, you're looking fabulous. Steak for me, of course, she has something with prawns in.
Starts to dawn on me that she's not saying a lot so I look concerned, are you okay, you're quiet, is anything wrong. Last time I saw her you couldn't shut her up. She looks a bit surprised and tells me, no, it's nothing, but I'm not quite convinced… I don't push it though. We eat, we have a few drinks, it's all very nice. Then it's two and we're still talking about bullshit, politics or something, and I think that it's probably time to get back to the desk.
So I say I have to be getting back and would she like to carry on the discussion later on? Because I'm still a bit worried about this “something to tell me” thing, I've not heard it yet and, well, there's the obvious isn't there? I think I was careful but sometimes you forget, don't you? And she says yes, please, are you free this evening? Well, yeah, I am. We sort something out after work. She says she works in Soho so we sort something out for six.
The afternoon's pretty shit and I can't wait to get out to be honest. I'm getting tired and I need something to keep me awake. As soon as it hits quarter to six, I leave and head down to Wardour Street. She's there at the bar, still in that blue thing and I think, does she really work in that? But whatever, not important, I don't really care. She's still looking worried though and I think I really have to find out what's going on here. If it's what I think it is I don't want it ruining the evening. So I sit down next to her and say, hi, how's it going, how are you feeling, you said there was something you needed to tell me. I had a bit of chang before I went out so I'm probably talking a bit more than I should but I'm starting, you know, to get a little concerned about her.
She's quiet for a bit and then she suddenly starts talking. There's someone after her. Oh yeah, I'm thinking, sure, but then she starts describing some guy and I realise that it's someone I saw earlier on – cunt pushed me while I was at the cashpoint. Big guy, sort of European-looking, leather jacket, stripey haircut… unless she's been watching me it's not something she's made up.
Then she puts the shits up me. “I think he may be after you, not just me,” she says. “Have you seen anyone like that?” I'm about to say yes when I see the guy right across the room behind me, sitting at a table with a glass of something. She notices me looking over her shoulder and you know what? She smiles.
I say that I've got to go and grab my jacket, go outside and start waving at cabs, looking behind me all the time. He doesn't seem to be coming out… and a cab stops, and I'm just about to jump in when there's this pain in my arm and I look round. Some little fuck is walking away from me, and there's a rip in my jacket, the bastard has stabbed me with something. “OI!” I shout and run after him, stupid yeah but I was fucking pissed off. He loses me though, goes down into Soho and disappears into some shop.
I get another cab and, well, I come back here. I'm sitting on the sofa right now with my laptop. Whatever it he got me with wasn't big but it looks like it was some sort of needle. Don't really know what's going on here. Maybe I should call a doctor or something?
Anyway, I'll post tomorrow. I'll be okay, take more than that to get rid of me.