A deal’s a deal. However, this is the only bit I could find that did not make me writhe. Due to the ruthless pruning, the completeness has been impaired, in as much as it does not make any bloody sense anymore: consequently the reader is advised to bail out now and choose something else (return to jodie teal).
‘So did you have a lot to drink last night?’
‘Yes. I was relying on sleeping through the morning, but was thwarted by my housemate.’ David told her about the wardrobe incident.
‘Good God! Moving furniture, on a Sunday morning?’
‘Yes, it surprised me, I must say.’
‘It beggars belief.’
‘Mind you, she does have a history.’
‘Yes, she’s got form, there’s no doubt about it. But it’s usually in the evenings when she annoys the living shit out of me. One doesn’t expect it before noon. It caught me off balance.’
‘You should move out.’
‘Well it is very cheap, you see. Besides, I have a hunch I might be able to outlast her. Then I can take over the house completely. My other housemate stays in her room all the time.’
‘Risky.’
‘But the prize is great.’
At this point the tea and cake arrived. A little sand-timer was positioned on the table, in order to judge optimal brewing time. Individual strainers were made available with companion drip-bowls, which, later on, were to significantly enhance the pouring operation. The cups were small enough to allow several refills before the onset of caffeine poisoning, a small point which nevertheless is consistently and distressingly overlooked. Mugs are for coffee. Although it is not true of all hot-beverage establishments, when it comes to tea shops there is generally a positive correlation between the amount of equipment and the quality of the drink. In this particular case, the credentials were clear, and an aura of invulnerable tea-drinking exellence had been firmly established. After a while the mumbles of discreet cake-troughing gave way to conversation, which wandered over the usual topics before venturing new ground around the third cup.
‘I need to think of an alternative career.’
‘Career?’
‘Mm. Recently I’ve had this feeling that I should be able to think of some idea, some way of making a living…’
‘Without working?’
‘Exactly.’
‘When have you been thinking this?’
‘On the way to work, usually.’
‘Aha.’
‘The funny thing is, it’s a very strong feeling. I mean, I’m completely convinced that there is some easy freelance occupation out there for me. I just need to think of it. There must be something of value I can do, something I’m good at, and comes easily, that other people would pay for, mustn’t there?’
‘Does this feeling get any stronger the closer you get to work?’
‘No. What do you mean?’
‘Er, nothing. So, any ideas yet?’
‘Nope. These things take time, though. You have to be patient while the germs ferment. I’ll keep you posted.’
‘Oh, do.’